


Honorable Secrets

by griffindork93



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-03
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2017-12-28 08:10:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 24,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/989747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/griffindork93/pseuds/griffindork93
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>an Alanna the Lioness take on the Naruto world. In a world where only men can be shinobi, Sakura switches places with a brother to become the first Kunoichi in 1000 years. Now she only has to hide her gender for the next 8 years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sakura studied her image in the mirror. Her eyes crossed as they stared at the lock of hair she held in front of her nose.

It was red.

It looked weird, wrong. It wasn’t pink. Her pink hair was unique, it defined her. Her hair was the reason she was named Sakura. She felt like a part of her was missing.

“Red suits you.”

Sakura didn’t listen to her brother. He would say it looked good on her. He had red hair. She looked at her face critically. She supposed it wasn’t too bad. It was a pretty shade of red and it still matched her green eyes.

“Now it just needs to be cut. Come, I’ll do it.”

She knelt in front of her brother. He raised a dull practice kunai to the back of her neck and chopped off her now long red hair. Sakura sat still as he continued to slice off small snippets of hair, evening out and styling it to resemble his hair.

“There, done.” Her brother gave her a gentle push. “Now take a look at yourself. You don’t look anything like you.”

Green eyes flicked to the mirror. He was right. Sakura could pass for her brother’s twin if she was but a bit taller.

“Right. I’ll go talk to Uncle now.”

“Sakura,” she paused in the doorway as her brother stood, every other step thudding as he walked, to catch her in a hug, “thank you.”

She turned to smile at her brother. 

“There’s no need to thank me, Satoshi. I would do anything for you, as you would for me.” And it was true. Their father didn’t care for them. Their mother had died in childbirth, so both children were practically raised by the servants. Satoshi at least had a year to know their mother, but all he could remember was her crooning voice, glowing smile, and red hair. 

Sakura didn’t begrudge her brother that time with their mother and he never blamed her for her death. They grew up being all each other had. Their father would shut himself in his office all day to run his estate. He never even visited Satoshi after his accident with carriage that lost him his leg. He actually thought it was his daughter that was crippled. 

Maybe he had been informed wrong. Maybe he just didn’t care. Maybe he wanted to think that it was Sakura, so that when the time came to send Satoshi to the Shinobi Institute, he would actually have a son to present as the law demanded.

That was why they were doing this. Sakura would spend the next eight years masquerading as he brother to earn the title of Shinobi. The law said that each noble family had to send at least one male child to the Institute.

Being a shinobi was something Sakura played at as a child, racing around the gardens mock fighting bandits and assassins. But it was never more than a child’s dream. Females were not allowed to become shinobi. There hadn’t been a female shinobi, a kunoichi, in over fifty years, since Tsunade of the Legendary Sannin had more than proved that females could be stronger than males.

Sakura knew this wasn’t going to be an easy undertaking. But she was prepared to work hard, harder than the boys if she had to. She wouldn’t disappoint Satoshi or her Uncle. She wouldn’t shame her family.

While she took his place at the Institute, Satoshi would take hers at the finishing school. Lucky for him, he didn’t have to dress as a girl for eight years. The finishing school also took in boys training to be diplomats.

All they had to do was tell Father that Sakura would be lonely and wanted to attend early. He would send payment to both the Institute and finishing school as planned, and they could play off the wrong names as my father doesn’t care. He spends more time with his books than me. The name on the letter would matter so long as they were getting paid. 

“Everything will be fine, Satoshi. The years will go by and soon you’ll be shaking hands with Lords and negotiating treaties and trade agreements or advising the Hokage himself.”

“And you’ll be the strongest shinobi.”

“Kunoichi,” corrected Sakura. “I’m going to be a kunoichi. And when that happens, maybe you could talk the Master into allowing females into the Institute.”

With that Sakura let herself out and went in search of her Uncle. He was the only other person aware of hers and Satoshi’s dangerous plan.

Her Uncle was in the kitchen, trying to charm the cook into giving him a few of her delicious strawberry pastries and stealing them when her back was turned. Sakura caught his eye and twitched her ear, their signal that they needed to talk. He stopped his flirting and followed her into the nearest drawing room.

“We’re ready.”

“Good. I have good news for you. Your father has agreed to let me handle any payments, correspondence, and disciplinary measures that might be needed.”

Sakura felt like her legs would give out beneath her from the relief she felt. That was better than not quite lying. He would address all letters to Satoshi Haruno, and no one would know he even had a sister. She could take his place without any flags being raised. 

“That said, we’re leaving tomorrow. You need to choose a servant to go with you. Preferably a female who would be able to help you when you start to become a woman. I was thinking Karin.”

She stared at her Uncle horrified. “You can’t be serious! Karin is a gossip. She speaks to freely. I wouldn’t last a day there. She would tell the first maid she met that her young ‘master’ is actually a young ‘mistress.’ I’ll be killed on the spot!” Sakura hated Karin, and the feeling was mutual. 

Her Uncle frowned. “Then who will you bring?”

“Tenten.” Sakura decided. Tenten was technically a ward of Lord Haruno. A not so recently orphaned daughter of a blacksmith rejected by the rest of her family because she refused to attend finishing school in favor of apprenticing to a blacksmith. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a blacksmith that would teach a female the tricks of their trade. It hadn’t stopped Tenten, who swore to learn it on her own. 

And Sakura was certain the girl would accept. Father had agreed to increase the wages of whatever servant accompanied his son. Tenten would earn money she could use to find a master who would apprentice her, and Sakura would get a companion she didn’t have to hide around, with the added bonus of her expert knowledge of weapons. 

She could see her Uncle thinking the change in plans over. In that way, he was like her father, but that was where the similarities ended. They both took the time to examine the potential consequences of any action they took or word they spoke, but her father was very dry, always serious, whereas her Uncle was more relaxed, outgoing while still refined, and lighthearted. 

“Very well.” Sakura danced a mental jig at her victory. “Tell your brother. And pack your bags.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sakura sat atop her horse, looking at her house almost wistfully as four servants loaded their carefully packed luggage. She would reach the Institute a week before the year started in order to settle in. Her luggage would arrive a few days later. The trunks and bags were labeled to ensure they got sent to the right place. Sakura had packed her essentials in her brother’s bags and he in hers.

A part of her still couldn’t believe this was happening. She was off to train at the Shinobi Institute with none the wiser. With any luck their scheme wouldn’t be discovered until well after she was issued her headband. 

The group of four started down the main road. Their Uncle would see her and Tenten to the Institute before continuing on with Satoshi. It would be five days journey from the Land of Fire to the neutral grounds that was home to the Institute.

Tenten was vibrating with anticipation, eager to see the unique weapons other students would bring and the Institute’s vast armory. The girl, only a year older than Sakura herself, had promised to keep her silence and Sakura trusted her. Now Tenten just needed to work on addressing her as a male. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sakura had never seen anything as beautiful as the Institute. It was a castle. An aged stone castle with sprawling lawns built in the center of a bustling town. Her head swiveled on her neck trying to take it all in.

There was an inn that sounded to be very popular. And there was the crowded market. In the distance she could see a few clan shrines. As they passed through the gates she could the older students sparring. It was a cacophony of noise. Metal clanged, techniques were shouted. Sakura spied giant fireballs, earthen walls rising at the speed of light, water dragons forming above the lake.

It was magnificent. 

This was what she would be learning to do for the next eight years.

Sakura followed her Uncle to meet with the Master. He welcomed her to the Shinobi Institute, laying down the school’s strict rules, a no excuses curfew, penalties for bad behavior or failure to maintain the teachers’ standards, visits to the town were a privilege that was earned, and many more.

Her head was swimming by the time they left his office and a servant directed her and Tenten to their room. The thought at the forefront was relief that he hadn’t seen through them. Part of Sakura expected him to realize she was a girl the second she walked in the room and either call for her death or send her home in shame. Shinobi were trained to recognize deception.

She didn’t even properly unpack once at her room. Sakura threw herself on her bed, exhausted both mentally and physically. Sleep sounded like heaven.

Her drifting thoughts of signing angels were interrupted by a loud knock on the door. Biting back a groan, she rose to answer it. She had hoped to put this off until tomorrow, when she would be better prepared, but gossip of the new boy traveled fast. Not unsurprising, shinobi lived or died by how much they knew, so they made it their business to know everything they can.

She inhaled. Now she would put all her years of training to act like a boy to the test. 

Sakura pulled the door open, ready for anything.


	2. Chapter 2

Green eyes flickered over many faces, taking a quick head count. 

There were eleven boys, well of course they were all boys, her mind scolded, there were no girls allowed, crowded in front of her door, of vastly different shapes and sizes and looks. 

“We heard a rumor that a new boy arrived. You’re awfully short, yeah. Are you sure you’re ten, kid?”

Sakura glared at the boy, whose blonde hair was styled very much like a girl’s. It was pulled back into a half pony tail with the rest hanging down and really long bangs covering his left eye, which she presumed was blue to match his right eye. She couldn’t help her height. It was perfectly normal for a nine year old girl.

She settled for ignoring him. If she tried to argue they would only think her childish. Besides, it wasn’t like she could prove her fake age. Males never came to the Institute before the age of ten. Their training was harsh and demanding so the king of the Elemental Nations made it a law that no one under the age of ten was to be accepted.

The pinkette thought it was a load of rubbish. Clans started training their firstborns as soon as they started walking. But due to an incident over a hundred years ago in which a seven year old boy died in an end of the year exam, the law had been passed. So Sakura would just be the shortest boy in their year.

“I’m Naruto Namikaze!” Another blonde with blue eyes shouted, hurriedly moving forward to shake her hand. “What’s your name?”

“Satoshi Haruno.”

If it wouldn’t have been rude, Sakura would have shut her door. Their quiet stares and calculating eyes that measured and judged her made her feel uncomfortable.

Naruto loudly introduced her to the other boys. The taller blonde that had commented on her height was Deidara from Iwagakure. Then was two red heads from Sunagakure, cousins Gaara no Sabaku and Sasori no Akasuna, and Gaara’s make up wearing brother Kankuro. Kabuto Yakushi, a bespectacled silver haired boy hailed from Otogakure.

The rest came from Konoha, just like her. Neji, from the Hyuuga clan, was eleven. The rest were all ten. Naruto was the son of the Yondaime Hokage. She could tell Kiba was an Inuzuka by the upside down red triangles on his cheeks. And the white puppy atop his head that yipped when introduced as Akamaru. Shikamaru Nara, his dark brown hair pulled up and back resembling a pineapple, gave her a lazy wave and a muttered “troublesome.” Sakura could hardly see Shino Aburame’s face behind his high collared coat and dark sunglasses. Chouji Akimichi, a rounded boy, also bore clan marking on his cheeks; red swirls.

Then Naruto pointedly grabbed a dark haired boy, whose hair stuck out in the back, forcibly dragging him forward, “And this is teme. Also known as Sasuke. And back there is teme’s brother Itachi.”

Sakura thought she was going to suffer a heart attack. Naruto was calling one of the kingdom’s princes “teme?” Then her brain caught up and realized that she was going to be in the same year as the youngest prince. She almost thought she felt a chill settle over her as she gazed at Sasuke.

Would the scrutiny for potential dangers be more this year because Sasuke was starting? Would her secret be revealed? Her panicked thoughts were interrupted by the older of the Uchiha brothers.

“Each gennin is given a mentor.” Itachi said smoothly. “A mentor shows you around the academy, makes sure that you’re settling in, and helps you with homework if necessary. The older students are here to guide you and make your life a little easier.”

Sakura’s brain, sharp as ever, realized that they were all outside her room to pick new students to mentor, and that there was one more first year than older years.

Unsurprisingly, it was Itachi that took the responsibility of two students. He took her and Sasuke on a tour of the castle, mostly for her benefit. The Shinobi Institute had its own wing of the palace in which the two boys had grown up it. 

“Classes won’t begin for a week yet, so you’ll have ample time to familiarize yourself with the layout.” Itachi stated as he pointed out the hallway housing the classrooms. 

Sakura only hoped she would still be here in a week. She was going to have to be vigilant. Maybe she could think of it as training. Her Uncle said ninjas often went undercover, playing a role for years. She should be able to do the same. And as long as nobody walked in on her in the baths, she should be safe. 

Itachi continued to narrate as he led Sakura and Sasuke out onto the castle’s sprawling grounds. “Now, while I’ll help with academic work, physical training is your responsibility. You need to maintain your form. Halfway through the year and at the end of the year there are evaluations; academic and physical. If you’re not prepared you will be cut.”

His warning came across loud and clear. Train until you collapse, both mind and body, and get up and do it again the next day. Shinobi were a nation’s defense and they could not afford unprepared soldiers.

New students and returning ones poured into the castle as the summer season came to an end.

Sakura didn’t notice any of them. She spent her free week down on the practice grounds, observing and filing away different jutsus, muscle strengthening techniques, and various katas. 

She refused to be cut.

She noticed the older students were out there nearly every day. On Thursday they all mysteriously disappeared.  Sakura wondered for a minute where they would go but quickly forgot about it when Naruto came tearing onto the grass trailed by Sasuke.

“Alright, teme! This time I’m going to beat you! I’m going to be the next Hokage you know!”

Sasuke rolled his eyes, apparently familiar with the blonde’s loud declarations, and settled into a basic taijutsu stance, his right leg forward and bent at the knee and one arm hovering over his weapons pouch. Naruto mimicked his stance.

The fight was quick and completely in the dark haired boy’s favor. It was rough and unfinished, a show of raw power, which wasn’t much. They lashed out with fists and beat each other, Sasuke landing blows way more often than Naruto.  It lacked the beauty, precision, and finesse she had seen all week. 

But watching their spar made Sakura feel better. Even the children from clans were coming in with as much training as her. Maybe a little less actually. Sakura’s Uncle pushed her limits since Satoshi’s accident so that she would be able to keep up with the boys. At that moment she felt more confident in her disguise. If this was the level expected from them, there was no way she would be sent home in December. 

Sakura continued to watch from the sidelines as the other four boys paired off, cataloging what little abilities she saw. All four of them were from prominent clans. The Naras were well known for their manipulation of shadows. It was said they could create shadows in shadows. The Akimichi clan could enlarge various body parts to the point where his fist could be large enough to flatten a building. The Aburame clan’s partnership with bugs kind of creeped her out. They lived inside their body. The Inuzuka’s was equally obvious, for they were never seen without their nin-hound companions.

And when she bid good night to Tenten that night, she was ready for her training to start. The next day was going to be so exciting and she simply couldn’t wait to get started. 


	3. Chapter 3

After two weeks at the Shinobi Institute, Sakura knew she was in trouble.

Serious trouble.

She thought she had been prepared for the rigorous training and trials she would face once the year began. She had been fast tracked through the basics when her brother was injured over two years ago. She displayed more skills than the boys that came from civilian backgrounds, but compared to the ones from noble families . . .

The girl never imagined she’d have so much trouble keeping up.

Her shortcomings raised niggling doubts that hovered in the back of her mind. The boys’ abilities far surpassed her own. Sakura didn’t have the years of training the rest of her classmates did. They had known all their lives they would be attending the Shinobi Institute, and she only had two years to learn everything they had grown up with.

Was that why there had been no kunoichi for a thousand years? Was the female body just not designed to handle the life style of shinobi life? Was her body just too weak? Was it an impossible dream?

And it was only the physical aspect she was struggling with. Her academic senseis praised her until they were blue in the face, ecstatic to have a student that excelled in their area and didn’t brush it off as boring or unimportant. 

Right now, Sakura’s high score’s in classes like Shinobi Rules, Ninja Basics, Chakra, and Ninjutsu, Taijutsu, and Genjutsu, as well as Mathematics, Reading and Writing and History of the Elemental Nations and Warfare, were what kept her from being in the bottom of the class. Her desire for knowledge meant she absorbed the material like a sponge. Quizzes came back with perfect scores and homework met every expectation. 

Gai Maito, who taught everything to do with Taijutsu, had a lot to say about her flames of youth and how he had never met another student who had the potential to become a taijutsu master. That was, until he saw her abysmal attempts and poor stances. 

But all the information she knew couldn’t compensate for her borderline failing grades in Sparring, Stamina and Fitness, Throwing and Katas. 

She just wasn’t as fit as the other children. She tired easily, her stances were sloppy, her attacks blatant and uncoordinated, etc. Her physical instructors were always finding something to critique, and the civilian boys laughed at the noble that couldn’t perform up to par. 

The only assignment she hadn’t failed was causing a leaf to stick to her forehead with chakra. The red head had no problems with her chakra control.

Her failings brought her to tears of frustration. 

The salty liquid seeped into her pillow, which she was using to muffle the sound of her crying. 

Sakura had overestimated herself. Or maybe underestimated just how hard it would be to become a shinobi. Either way, she was woefully ill prepared for the Institute. For a moment she considered packing her bags, fleeing the Institute and running back to the Haruno compound. Surely it would be better if she admitted that she could not become a shinobi, and they explained that Satoshi could not either.  If they knew that he had a debilitating injury, they might make an exception to the law.

Then she thought of the disgrace that would befall her family if she quit. No noble son had every quit.

But wouldn’t it be worse when the mid-year exams arrived and instead of cutting a civilian child from the program, she was sent home instead? It would be humiliating. 

“My la-lord? Are you alright?” 

Sakura jerked upright, dragging the palms of her hands hastily across her face to hide the signs of her tears.

She winced when Tenten gently stroked her cheek with a cool cloth. “Wiping the tears away only make your face redder, my lord.” The older girl’s lips still twitched every time she called Sakura a lord.

“I’m sorry, Tenten. This is all just so . . . hard. I don’t think I can do it.”

“You won’t with that attitude.” Tenten said sharply. “You knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but this is what you wanted. You have a magnificent opportunity in front of you and you can’t just give up because it’s too hard. If that’s the case, you’ll have to work twice as hard.”

“I don’t think I know what I wanted. I’m not cut out to be a ninja.”

“Then forget what you want. Remember why you’re here.”

Sakura blinked. Remember why she was here. She was here because Satoshi couldn’t be, because the law demanded his attendance or the consequences would be severe. She didn’t actually know what the horrible consequence were, since it had been centuries since one of the noble clans refused to send their only son to the Institute, but she was not eager to have the kingdom’s wrath brought down upon her family because she quit.

That was her purpose here. She was protecting Satoshi.

“Thank you, Tenten,” she said, smiling softly. 

It was too late to turn back now. Sakura had to finish the eight years of training; she had to protect her older brother. 

“Right, now let’s see if I can’t fix your problems.” Tenten determinedly said.

“Fix my problems?” The other girl echoed. 

“That’s what a servant does, is that not?” The bun haired female winked at Sakura as she picked up her ink brush and drew a rough target on the wall. Then she tossed Sakura her weapons pouch.

The startled red head fumbled the pouch, which hit the stone floor with a thunk and the kunais and shurikens held within scattered. Sakura blushed as he hurriedly shoved them all back into the pouch, only to have Tenten snatch it out of her hands.

“Hey!” she exclaimed.

“This won’t do at all!” bemoaned the brunette. “Just look how disorganized this is. Once we’ve fixed your aim, I’m going to show you how to seal weapons into scrolls. That way you can carry more and put them away neatly.”

“I didn’t know you knew ninja techniques.”

Tenten shrugged. “I only know what I’ve heard from shinobi that came to my father’s shop. I can teach you how to properly take care of just about any weapon they might give you and the basics of how to wield it.”

Sakura bit her lip. Tenten never really talked about her family. The only ones she had cared for were her mother, who had died when she was a small child, and her father, who died when his blacksmith and shop caught fire. She knew Tenten had admired her father very much, because she wished to follow in his footsteps, but she hadn’t known how much the other girl had already learned about the trade she was in love with. 

“I’d love that, if you don’t mind.”

The change in Tenten’s demeanor was instantaneous. “No problem, my lord. Now,” she withdrew one kunai and pressed it into Sakura’s hands, showing her the proper way to grip the blade, “a kunai is a common tool, designed for thrusting and stabbing. It’s not really meant to be thrown, they’re too easy to deflect or avoid, but if you attach a paper bomb to them, they’re an excellent weapon. However, you need to be accurate when throwing because explosive tags don’t have the largest range. What you’re holding now is a basic kunai. There are other molds and variations available depending on what you need the kunai to do.”

Sakura listened intently as Tenten explained the best way to throw the kunai and then demonstrated by hitting the center of her practice target. 

“Is this a good idea? I mean gouging holes in the wall.” Sakura clarified when her companion drew herself up for another lecture slash pep talk.

“Oh, that’s easy to fix. Now you try.”

Sakura practiced until lights out. She would have kept going but she was sure that her fellow ninja in training would not appreciate the constant thud of kunai all night long. As it was, she didn’t feel like she had made much progress.

Her wild throws had resulted in the first dozen kunai hitting well outside the painted target, and with Tenten’s instruction she gradually pulled them in until they were within the outer ring. But they never hit any closer to the bull’s-eye and the holes were erratic. She couldn’t hit the same place twice.

Tenten had reassured her, saying that she wasn’t expected to master the technique of throwing kunai overnight. Hitting the target was progress, and with more practice would come the speed, accuracy and consistency. 

When Sakura woke early the next morning to do a simple routine of muscle building exercises her servant had recommended, the ink was scrubbed off the wall and there was no sign that she had ever thrown a hundred kunai at it. There were also three sealing scrolls lying innocently next to her completed homework, and a note saying that Tenten would show her how to use them later tonight.

Tenten was scarily efficient. 

 


	4. chapter 4

Tenten was also a hard task master Sakura thought when a kunai slammed into her desk scant inches from her nose. The other girl’s fervor had reached new levels, to the point where Sakura was spending every free moment she had, which was few and far between with all the classes and assignments she had, locked in her room as the brunette tutored her precision and accuracy.

The two girls started before the sun rose and continued until well after lights out, and the extended schedule had finally taken its toll on the red headed girl.

Her head jerked off the desk as her Deportment teacher, who had been responsible for almost taking her nose off her face, cried her name. “Haruno! There is a time and place for sleeping, namely your room at lights out and not during class.” Sakura fought the furious blush that threatened to take over her face as the rest of the class began snickering. “Would you care to share with the rest of us why you felt the need to sleep in my class, Heir Haruno?”

“No, sir, Ebisu-sensei.” She mumbled.

“Chin up, boy. Look at me when you speak. You need to pronunciate. Mumbling is rude and uncouth.” Ebisu pushed his thick, round sunglasses up the bridge of his nose as he scolded her. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from muttering that throwing live weapons at sleeping kids wasn’t exactly good manners. 

“I apologize, Ebisu-sensei. It won’t happen again,” apologized Sakura. 

It was hard to tell behind the dark glasses, but the red head was sure he was looking down his nose at her. “Too right it won’t. You will report to the medical wing after dinner for an hour.”

Sakura gave him the expected ‘yes sir, I’ll be there.’ She had hoped that was all her punishment consisted of, but he dragged her to the front of the room and had her demonstrate the proper way to bow to differently titled people. Many she had to do over until they met his strict expectations and critical eye.

By the time her last class before lunch ended her thigh muscles and lower back muscles ached from bowing and scraping. Naruto threw an arm around her shoulder as soon as they were out of Ebisu-sensei’s eyesight saying, “Tough luck, mate. You’d have been better off taking your nap in Iruka-sensei’s class. Guy absolutely adores you. And he never cares when Shikamaru is asleep.”

“Iruka-sensei’s always assigning him extra work for not being awake.”

“And then he ends up scrubbing desks because he’s too lazy to do the extra work!” Kiba laughed, roughly shoving in between her and the blonde.

“Hey! Back off, Dog Breath! I was talking to Satoshi first!” Naruto shouted. 

Sakura twisted away from the Inuzuka and Namikaze heirs as they lost themselves in bickering. For reasons she couldn’t understand, and that none of the guys would share with her, Naruto and Kiba were always fighting for her attention.  From who sat next to her at meals, who she partnered with in afternoon lessons, to whom she helped with homework and which one of them could get her to loosen up.

She might have understood their actions if she was female. Well, if they knew she was a girl, but for them to be fighting so energetically over Satoshi’s attention baffled her. Sakura did her best to acquiesce to their wanting to spend time with her, but there were days where they incited her temper and they both scrambled to be anywhere but near her.

Sakura’s temper was actually becoming quite legendary amongst the gennin. Naruto was its most common victim, for the blonde was forever opening his mouth before his brain could catch up, and she would slam a fist into the back of his head. 

The first time she had knocked him flat off his feat the rest of their friends had stared at her incredulously. Except for Sasuke. He rarely showed any emotion beyond indifference. But even he had taken an interest in her after that incident.

Sakura figured it was because she was the only person besides himself who would put Naruto in his place and because she had surprised him. If there was one thing she had learned, besides that Sasuke was a very closed off person and insanely talented, it was that he hated surprises.

She had surprised herself with how well she got on with the boys. They were a really dysfunctional group, ranging from Shikamaru, Sasuke, Gaara, and Shino who rarely spoke, to Kankuro and Chouji who were quite happy to be left to their own devices, to Naruto and Kiba who rarely shut up, and to Neji who took his duty as a second year gennin seriously, always making sure the first year gennins were prepared and on time.

Shikamaru was probably the person she was closest to. They may have been polar opposites in attitude, with her already showing signs of being a workaholic and him being the laziest boy in their year, but Sakura enjoyed the highly intense debates they had and their games of shogi, when she found time for it. The Nara heir was clearly a tactical genius. He could read her game plan ten moves ahead. Sakura hadn’t won a game yet, but there had been a few close calls and games they had to end with a stalemate because curfew arrived before they finished.

The best thing about Shikamaru, however, was that he never asked about her. He didn’t want to know about her family or her apparent lack of previous training and the reason behind it, so she never had to lie to him, which was something Sakura greatly appreciated. 

She could be Sakura Haruno with the pineapple haired boy. Even though they all called her by Satoshi’s name, she enjoyed the moments where she could drop the mask, where she didn’t have to worry about thinking and acting like a boy, walking and talking and punching like one. Other than Shikamaru, the only other person she could be herself with was Tenten.

“You know Ebisu-sensei’s going to hold this offense over your head forever now?”

Sakura glared half-heartedly at Shikamaru, who had silently stepped into place besides her, arms crossed behind his head and his gaze pointed upwards like he could see the clouds through the stone ceiling. 

“He takes everything so personally,” she sighed. “How do you manage to get away with it? He never calls you out on falling asleep. And you do it every day!”

Shikamaru shot her a smirk. “He’s taught a lot of Naras. I think he knows it’s a lost cause to force one to pay attention.” 

Sakura started to grumble about how unfair it was and that Ebisu-sensei shouldn’t get his bandana in a twist over the one time his star pupil fell asleep when Shikamaru wagged a finger at her. “You need to pronunciate. Mumbling is rude and uncouth.”

Sakura laughed as she gently shoved him. “Quote sensei again and I’ll see that you join me in the infirmary.” 

They both ignored the cries of protest that came from Naruto and Kiba about how Shikamaru could make Satoshi laugh and continued to the mess hall for lunch. Sakura chose to sit at the edge of the table and forced Shikamaru to sit on her left. With him acting as a buffer she was able to eat her lunch in peace.

* * *

 

Thankfully, Sakura had no problems staying awake in her afternoon lessons. With the practical lessons came the need to prove herself, and that feeling was accompanied by plenty of adrenaline.

Tenten’s extra lessons were well worth falling asleep in Deportment if it meant she showed improvement in the physical side of her training. 

Gai-sensei was loudly proclaiming that her speed had increased and that she need to continue to let her flames of youth burn brightly. Sakura thought he was trying to encourage her by saying she was getting better, because, sure, she could now block about half the punches Naruto threw at her, but it was still only half.

She would still leave his class with pale skin that was already purpling from the force of the blonde boy’s throws.

“Look at him,” a brown haired boy sniggered as the roles of attacker and defender switched. “Haruno punches like a little girl. My brother could hit harder than that and he’s only six. No way is he going to make it. He’ll be the first one sent home.”

Fusoku’s words rang in her ears. He’ll be the first one sent home. Over and over again, Fusoku’s irritating voice sneered those words. Sakura’s eyes narrowed dangerously. Fusoku was from a civilian family and rather self-assured for one who wasn’t trained before coming to the Shinobi Institute. He might have worked on the farms, which would go a long way to explain his broader shoulders and why he was more buff than the rest of the civilian students. 

But muscles weren’t everything. Fusoku might have been good at hand to hand combat, but brute force wasn’t everything. You would be more likely to exhaust yourself if you threw wildly. It was better to aim for an area of the body that you could injure.

‘What does he know?’ she though, fist flying forward and slamming into Naruto’s left shoulder with enough force to make him take a step back to keep his balance. ‘He’s a civilian. He’s had no more training than I have.’ Her next punch landed on her partner’s ribcage. ‘It’s only been one month. There’s more than enough time before the half year exams.’ Naruto winced when he blocked her next attack. ‘By that time I’ll be at the top of the class. I’ll be the rookie of the year. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.’

“Woah, Satoshi. Great job today,” Naruto exclaimed when they were dismissed, shaking out his arm. “That went a lot better than yesterday. Fuzzy brows sensei commented on your flames of youth more so than usual. Have you been getting extra practice from him?”

“Don’t call him that.” Sakura snapped. “And why would I torture myself with spending more time with Gai-sensei?”

“Because you’re the weakest one of us.” 

Naruto’s blunt words hurt. It felt like somebody had thrust a kunai into her heart. Is that how all the others saw her? As the weak boy? The one they had to protect? Did they think she would be the first one cut, too?

Sakura stomped ahead, deaf to his calls of what did he do. Apparently all the gennin thought she would never last.

She didn’t let her tears fall until she was in the safety of her rooms. Hot water rolled down her back as she huddled on the floor of the shower, arms wrapped around her knees. 

“My lord?” Tenten called hesitantly. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Tenten,” Sakura answered. “Honestly. I’ll be out in just a minute.”

“If you’re sure.” Tenten’s footsteps moved away from the bathroom. Sakura stood, turning off the shower before reaching for the towel the brunette had set out. Not in the mood for conversation or questioning from her supposed friends, Sakura skipped dinner, heading straight to the medical wing.

She froze in the doorway upon arriving. The medic wing was much busier than she was expecting. Over three-quarters of the beds were occupied by bleeding shinobi. Medic-nin scurried to and fro, triaging patients and attending to those in the most danger of dying from the wounds they suffered. 

“You. There. Don’t just stand there.” Sakura jumped when one of the medic-nin paused to address her. “If it’s not life threatening come back in the morning. We don’t have time to attend to whatever cuts you may have gotten because you weren’t paying attention.” The woman was already trying to push Sakura back out of the infirmary doors.

“What? No. I’m not injured.”

The medic-nin interrupted her. “Then you have no need to be standing in doors gawking. Move on with you.”

“You don’t understand. Ebisu-sensei told me to report here.” She explained hurriedly. The woman’s eyes widened in acknowledgement before quickly putting the young girl to work.

Sakura spent the next several hours fetching rolls of gauze, emptying buckets of vomit, washing bloody rags, and towing around a bowl of water in which she soaked a cloth she’d press to shinobis’ foreheads to wipe away sweat.

“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING? YOU INCOMPETENT IDIOT! THAT HIGH A DOSAGE WOULD KILL HIM! I HAVE NO PATIENCE FOR ROOKIES! GET OUT OF MY HOSPITAL!”

The red headed girl almost dropped her bowl as a blonde medic-nin chewed out another that was shaking like a leaf. She actually did let it go, uncaring of the water that soaked her feet, when the blonde turned around, revealing a face Sakura knew all to well.

It was that of Tsunade Senju. 

In a world where only males could become shinobi and the closest females could get was becoming medical ninja, Tsunade Senju was a legend. The one female who could have been a kunoichi if the laws were different. There were rumors around Konoha that the woman could shatter mountains with one fist. She was the woman any aspiring medical ninja wanted to be. Tsunade was the best healer in the nation.

So it really shouldn’t have surprised Sakura that she was stationed at the castle. It was only logical to have the best the medical ninja the world has to offer on hand where the royal family lived. But Sakura never thought she would have met the one person she idolized. 

She snapped out of her thoughts when another medic-nin ordered her to refill the bowl. She hastily apologized for dropping it in the first place before rushing off to do as she was told.

The rest of the night she kept half her attention on her duty, and the other half on where Tsunade was.

When the chaos subsided it was well after curfew. The woman who had first seen her standing in the doorway scribbled a note for her should one of the teachers catch her on her way back to her room. Sakura clutched it in one hand. She glanced between the piece of paper and Tsunade, whose hands glowed green as they hovered over the last patient.

She hesitated briefly before summoning up all her courage and striding over to the older woman. 

“Can you teach me?”

 


	5. Chapter 5

“Can you teach me?” Sakura pressed when the older woman didn’t respond.

If she could learn the woman’s rumored monstrous strength, there was no way she would be cut in three months. Physical fitness was a large component of their assessments. Her stances and aim were coming along nicely, largely in part thanks to all the effort Tenten put in for her.

Speaking of the brown haired girl, Sakura was going to have to write to her Uncle Mamoru to increase her already increased wages. She had gone above and beyond for Sakura. Tenten scrounged up more kunai and shuriken than the standard kit given to students came with, and taught her more efficient ways to maintain them.

With her instruction, Sakura was now consistently hitting the target in Throwing class.

Tenten has also somehow gotten her hands on a tantō, which was simply a shortened katana, so she could start training with a sword, and some rather unusual weapons, like an ax that stood taller than herself with double sided blades (Sakura couldn’t even lift the monstrous weapon let alone swing it in any controlled manner. She was actually afraid of cutting off her foot if she dropped it), and a bow and a quiver of arrows, which were not typical shinobi weapons, but as Tenten said, “They have a much longer range than kunai and shuriken and can be designed to penetrate armor. Plus, due to their slim shape, arrows are harder to defend against.”

Tenten reasoned that Sakura could show her diverse knowledge and skill in weapons in the assessment’s last test. The final test, which wasn’t often given, allowed for gennin to show off budding talent in an area not covered in classes or advanced ability in one of them.

The brunette meant well, but Sakura would never be a weapons mistress. Besides, the proctors would look down on her if she showed skill with an ax or bow but couldn’t wield the standard kunai and shuriken to their satisfaction.

But, thinking on Tenten’s well-meant gestures had given the red head a brilliant idea.

She had intended on asking for Tsunade to teach her the trick to her otherworldly strength, and there had to be a trick because Sakura could attest that no woman was that strong naturally. But a medical ninja was always in high demand.

If she could learn the skills of an Iryō-nin, she was guaranteed to pass the tests in December.

* * *

 

Tsunade took half a second to look down at the snot nosed brat pleading for her to teach him and snorted. She already had enough duties on her hands. There was no time to teach brats that didn’t look old enough to know what chakra was let alone use it.

“Funny, boy. Now, punishment’s over. Scram before I throw you out.”

“Please.” Green eyes shined as he tried to appeal to a kind side that didn’t exist.

“I don’t have the time. Now get out.” She answered.

“I promise I’ll work hard,” the boy swore.

Tsunade didn’t bother to restrain a groan. “Look, kid, you don’t have what it takes to be a medical ninja.”

“How would you know? You haven’t given me a chance.”

“Do you know any medical jutsus?” The boy’s entire face darkened. That was answer enough for her.

“But I can learn!” He exclaimed.

Tsunade didn’t care to deal with the brat at this time. Her head was pounding, a combination of having indulged in a more than unhealthy amount of sake and having to deal with incompetent nurses in her hospital wing when so many lives were at stake.

“Come back in the morning, brat. Around the eleventh bell.”

The boy opened his mouth to protest, but the blonde cut him off. She was well aware that the boy would be in lessons at that time of day. But she didn’t give a rat’s ass.

More than just not wanting to deal with the kid at the moment, Tsunade refused to teach boys. Her one and only apprentice had been a female named Shizune. The Crown had denied her the title of kunoichi, although she had fought an entire year’s worth of graduating shinobi to prove her strength.

As retribution, she promised to only teach girls. The life of an Iryō-nin was the only path available to a female that wanted to be a ninja. Not that, admittedly, there was a line of young girls lining up to be medical ninja.

But it was the principle of the matter. The kingdom had denied her want she wanted, and she would deny them what they needed.

There wasn’t a medical ninja in the Elemental Kingdoms that could match her prowess. And since the palace needed her, they couldn’t force male trainees upon her. They knew she would rather flee and go underground than pass on her knowledge to males. And they put up with her because she was the best.

Having made her opinion clear, Tsunade commanded the brat, still staring expectantly up at her with doe like green eyes that looked out of place on a boy’s face, out of her domain. He left grudgingly.

* * *

 

When Sakura returned to her room, after nipping by the dining hall to catch a quick meal, she found a letter from her Uncle lying on her pillow. It read:

_Dear Satoshi-kun,_

_I hope this letter finds you well and that you have found life as a page as wonderful as you anticipated it to be. Remember to study hard and practice harder. Only the best are granted the headband of a shinobi._

_Sakura sends her well wishes. She asked that I pass along her deepest thanks for the most recent favor you have performed for her._

_A word of advice, don’t ever forget your heart. They teach you that shinobi are supposed to be emotionless, but men are stronger when they fight to protect that which is precious to them._

_Love,_

_Mamoru Haruno._

Sakura read through it twice more, committing the short letter to memory, before hiding it underneath the loose floorboard she had discovered under her bed her second week there. She had been feeling around for a stray kunai that had hit far from its mark and clattered under the bed. She wound up with splinters in her fingers and a hiding place that could be put to future use.

She had returned to her room in despair of her chances of making it through her first year at the Institute. But her uncle was giving her the same reminded Tenten had: she had to protect Satoshi.

It had strengthened her resolved. Tomorrow, Sakura would go back to Tsunade and demand that the woman take her on.

* * *

 

“Cover for me,” she hissed to Naruto when their Warfare class ended. She had ten minutes before the eleventh hour bell tolled, which meant she had ten minutes to race to the infirmary.

Sakura knew she would be reprimanded, and duly punished, for skipping class (and it would be a harsh punishment because her next class was Shinobi Rules, taught by Mizuki), but she would take the punishment. Whatever twisted punishment Mizuki came up with would only be temporary.

“Thanks,” she said, despite the blonde’s not having agreed to lie for her, and dashed off down the corridor. He shouted after her, but she was far enough away that it was inaudible. Naruto was good at thinking on his feet and would have no trouble coming up with a believable lie for her absence. As long as she let him in on why she was uncharacteristically cutting class, Naruto would forgive her for putting him on the spot.

She arrived at the hospital wing three minutes before eleven, and proceeded to enter the double doors and head towards Tsunade’s office on the far side of the room.

Many of the beds lining the two long walls were still occupied. Despite the heavy presence of people, the room was eerily silent and her every footstep echoed.

Sakura stared at the door, hesitantly wondering if she made the right decision, then knocked.

It seemed like ages to the girl before the door opened. Amber eyes blinked down at her blearily. After a second or two they cleared.

Tsunade stepped aside, gesturing her inside the office with one hand, eyes regarding her steadily.

“I’m here,” Sakura said, uncertainly.

“I can see that. I wasn’t expecting you to show. I’ll give you this kid, you’ve got gumption. But what makes you think I’ll give you any more of a chance now than I did last night?”

Sakura stood proudly and announced as firmly as possible, “Because I won’t let you tell me no.”

There was an unidentifiable gleam in the woman’s light eyes that put Sakura on edge. Maybe this upfront won’t take no for an answer attitude was not the right approach. “I’ll tell you what, brat. I’ll give you one week to tell me the most important skill of an Iryō-nin.” She held up a hand to forestall the answer Sakura was about to give. “If you can, I will teach you. If not, I will go to Kensouske-san and have him remove you from the Institute, permanently.”

The woman’s ultimatum gave Sakura pause. If she got the answer wrong and was sent back to the Haruno estates, the Crown would send a messenger out to find a replacement for her. If they did that, they would surely learn that the heir was crippled and couldn’t have possibly been the boy attending the Institute for a month. It would only be a matter of time before it was discovered that she had dared to impersonating a clan heir, never mind that it was her own brother, and take his place at the Institute.

“Well, what do you say, boy?” This time Tsunade’s eyes gleamed victoriously, like she had already won the challenge.

Fire burned in Sakura’s belly. “You’ve got a deal.”

* * *

 

“Just for the record,” Naruto said, throwing himself onto the bench next to Sakura, “you totally owe me for lying to Mizuki-sensei. That bastard hates me. Wasted the first ten minutes of class trying to trick me into telling where exactly you had gone. I told him that Iruka-sensei held you back. Iruka doesn’t really like Mizuki-teme and would totally side with me, as long as I tell him the truth.”

Sakura listened silently. She hadn’t noticed how Mizuki treated the exuberant boy, but now that he mentioned it, she could name a lot of senseis that treated him coldly and graded him harsher than the other students.

Naruto turned sideways to look at her fully. It was the most serious she had seen him. “So, why was I lying for you, Satoshi?”

In a quiet voice that was unlikely to be overheard in the racket that filled the dining hall, Sakura explained how she had to return to the infirmary at the medic’s specified time if she wanted a chance of learning medical jutsus.

“I don’t understand. Why do you need to learn medical ninjutsu?” he asked, confused.

“I’m not stupid, Naruto. I know I’m not as skilled as the rest of the clan children. You guys are all leaps and bounds ahead of me. If I don’t do something spectacular in the evaluations, I’ll be sent home.”

“Why didn’t you ask for help?”

Sakura laughed. “The senseis don’t give out extra help. Or at least not for free. Any extra help they count as assignments and factor it into your grade as if it was required. I’d be sent packing in a week if I asked them for help.”

“Not them. Us. Me,” Naruto clarified.

“You would help me?”

“Of course I would!” the whiskered boy said staunchly. “You help me with my essays all the time. I’d say I actually owe you for all the help you’ve given me.”

Sakura laid her small hand over his. “Thank you, Naruto. That means a lot to me,” she said gratefully.

He grinned foxily. “No problem, Satoshi. This weekend, I’ll introduce you to a couple of people that’ll help.”

* * *

 

With Naruto’s support, Sakura felt much better about being at the Institute. Despite her shortcomings, he clearly believed in her, and for reasons she couldn’t explain, she felt the need to live up to his belief in her, to not disappoint the blonde.

Still, she was nervous. The deadline Tsunade had given her was approaching (it was tomorrow) and Sakura didn’t have the answer to her question.

Her first instinct had been to say the Mystical Palm technique medical ninja used to heal people. It allowed the user to speed up the natural healing process of the patient’s body and could be used on external and internal injuries.

She had read that the technique required extremely refined chakra control to use, so Sakura thought the answer might be chakra control. But it didn’t feel right to her. Both answers were obvious, and given how eager Tsunade was to take her on as an apprentice, Sakura didn’t think the busty woman would give her a question she could answer easily.

“Pay attention, my lord!” Tenten snapped as another kunai whizzed by her ear. This time, it nicked the top of the fleshy appendage. Sakura raised her hand to wipe away the small trickle of blood. “You can’t be a ninja if you can’t avoid a kunai.”

Sakura gasped. “Tenten, you’re a genius! You definitely deserve a raise. I’ll be right back!”

For the second time that week, Sakura ignored a person calling after her as she ran to the hospital wing.

She skirted to a stop outside Tsunade’s office, huffing with exertion. “Evasion,” she gasped when the woman opened the door. “That’s a medical ninja’s most important skill. Evasion.”

Tsunade study her, eyes hard. “Are you sure this is what you want? I will not cut you any slack. This training is going to be more demanding than your normal training, and I won’t let you half ass it because you don’t have the time or energy to do both. If you step through this door, you are committing yourself. I expect you to treat this seriously.”

Sakura nodded several times. The blonde stared at her a moment longer, then said, “Very well. You’ll report here at four in the morning.”

“Four in the morning!” the red head repeated.

“Yes. If that’s going to be a problem, there’s the door.” She pointed behind Sakura with one long, slender finger.

“No, that’s not a problem. Not at all,” the young girl hurried to assure her.

It really might be. Her days were long. They started at six with breakfast, and didn’t end until eleven, at which point she had to complete all of her assigned homework. Adding in Iryō training, and she’d be up from four til eleven, which was nineteen hours. Factor in homework and she’d be lucky to get three hours of sleep.

But she needed to do this. “I’ll be there,” she promised.


	6. Chapter 6

Sakura groaned, mumbling incoherently into her pillow as a warm hand shook her awake. She had been having such a pleasant dream. She was demolishing opponent after opponent in some free for all ninja tournament where the last man standing could ask a favor of King Fugaku and Queen Mikoto. Sakura was going to kick ass in disguise, reveal her gender, and demand that Their Majesties allow kunoichi to be trained again. Then she’d be famous.

The hand on her shoulder shook her more roughly. “Come on, my lord. You must wake up. It’s half past three.”

The red head vaguely recognized the voice as belonging to Tenten, but her servant and friend was crazier than a ramen deprived Naruto if she thought she was rousing Sakura from her cozy bed in the middle of the night.

“You don’t want to be late, my lord. I’ve already started your shower, so there’s no cold water in the pipes. Hurry up and get cleaned. I’ll be right back with your breakfast,” Tenten continued with her rebuke.

Sakura cracked open one bleary emerald eye, hoping to cow the brunette into letter her sleep until a more normal hour. Kami knew Tenten’s heart was in the right place and Sakura was grateful beyond words for the older girl’s help, but she was not getting gup this early for whatever training schem she had designed.

It simply wasn’t happening.

Tenten was persistent though. “Master Tsunade will be very vexed if you’re late.”

“Master Tsunade . . .,” the drowsy girl repeated. The name bounced around in her head.

Sakura cursed violently, careful to keep the volume down and not disturb the rest of the gennin wing, and leapt out of bed.

Or tried to. She caught herself up in the blanket and half fell out of the bed. Thankfully, her hands weren’t caught up and her reflexes were improved enough to slapped them to the floor to prevent her from completely overbalancing in some embarrassing display.

Sakura quickly righted herself and dashed for the attached bathroom (and thank Kami that each gennin had private bathrooms or her secret would not have lasted long). The hot water cascaded down her body. She gave it the perfunctory scrub and worked the shampoo in her hair into a lather. The one benefit of pretending to be her brother, aside from having the chance to pursue her dream, was that her shorter hair was much easier to care for. It required less maintenance and Sakura was contemplating keeping it short even after she came out.

She pulled the short locks in front of her, examining them with a critical eye. Soon, she would have to get Tenten to reapply the red dye. The color was starting to fade.

She hurried through the rest of her morning routine and found a plate of steaming breakfast waiting on her desk, as promised. Next to it was an unlabeled scroll, a full inkpot, and a brush.

Sakura marveled at the bun haired girl’s efficiency.

She shoveled down her meal, not actually tasting it in her haste to get to the Hospital Wing and scooped up the items Tenten had laid out into a messenger bag. The halls were empty except for the staff. They squeaked in surprise when a short red blur darted past and around them, brown bag bouncing behind her erratically.

The girl cheered internally when she reached the doors to Tsunade’s domain before the bell sounded proclaiming the fourth hour. Taking a deep breath to compose herself, she entered.

Sakura was directed to the healer’s office located at the end of the large wing. Knocking tentatively on the door, she prayed that the woman was prepared for her.

Tsunade’s reputation was legendary across the Elemental Nations. Her penchant for betting and losing big was no secret and her love for sake was even more obvious. The cup was never far from hand.

What if she had gotten drunk last night and Sakura was wasting her time expecting to learn medical jutsus? Or would Tsunade sabatoge her training because she had forced the woman to take her on as a student?

The minute that Sakura had to wait for the door to open was the longest sixty seconds of her life. She could only think of all the ways Tsunade might back out of the deal.

Tsunade wrenched the open elm door. Her amber eyes flashed at the young girl anxiously shifting her weight before her. “There’s no quitting, understand me brat? No giving up because it’s too tough or too time consuming. Trust me. Your other courses won’t even begin to compare to the hell I’m about to put you through. Good medic-nin are hard to come by. Talented ones that don’t needed their hand held twenty-four seven even more so. I’m going to put you through your paces. If you can’t meet my expectations, I’ll toss you out on your ass. You keep up or you get lost.”

Sakura lifted her chin. She had already been aware that learning a whole new skill set would take effort and dedication. But she would see this through to the bitter end, whatever that may be.

Yes, it meant longer days and cut into her sleeping hours, but she would eventually adjust to the hectic timetable. And sure, Sakura was pretty certain she had just doubled her workload for the foreseeable future, but it would be well worth it if she accomplished something before the half year evaluations.

She scurried into the room that would soon become what Naruto and Kiba joked to be her second bedroom, for she would be spending so much time holed up in there that it was the first place any person looking for Satoshi Haruno would try.

The room was very functional. Sakura couldn’t see any personal touches. She didn’t count the plants growing on the window sill since she was sure they wound up in the medicine. Tsunade’s desk sat before the window, its surface a disaster of paper and files. In the one corner, on both sides of where the two walls met, was a floor to ceiling bookcase, stuffed to the point its contents were threatening to explode outwards. Filing cabinets took up the rest of the space, and they were just as disorganized as the rest of the room. She could spot several drawers where the corners of pages were caught, clearly not having been set in properly.

The young girl thought it was a miracle that Tsunade managed to find anything in the sheer chaos that was her office.

The blonde dug through one of her desk drawers, removing a solid wooden storage box, one of those boxes with decorations for people to put their wills in, and setting it down with a hard thump. Sakura found the intricate floral pattern to be beautiful. She lightly ran her fingertips over the lines.

Then she looked up to stare at Tsunade, who was studying her with an apprising gaze that made Sakura duck her head again. “What’s in it?” she asked, curiously.

“Open it.”

Hesitantly, Sakura slid the box towards her and popped up the lid. Inside were several tiny parchment wrapped packages. She lifted one out, pulling on the twine that held it closed. It held some kind of plant with bright green leaves and brilliant scarlet fruits. Puzzled, she took out another one. Tsunade watched in silence as she unwrapped a wrinkled root, a reddish bark, a green-brown flower, and were those spores?

“I don’t understand,” Sakura said, sweeping her hand at the flora before her. “What is all this?”

“That,” the renowned medic-nin tapped a red tipped finger on the box, “is your first assignment.”

Sakura bit down on her tongue. She _knew_ that the other female would have homework for her. There was enough information in the medical field to be memorized that it easily matched what she would learn in eight years at the Institute.

But she had hoped that Tsunade would go a little easy on her on her first day.

“I want you to identify each specimen in that box. Then I want a list of its physical description, what it treats, what it’s classified as, which part of it is used, and any warning that goes with it. And I want it by Friday.”

“But it’s Wednesday! That only gives me two days,” the girl exclaimed.

“Friday.”

Sakura figuratively kissed her sleep goodbye. Tonight, she would be burning the midnight oil.

“Now, put that all back and follow me outside.”

Reluctantly, she did as she was told, carefully stowing the box within her messenger bag. She left the bag behind, as instructed. Tsunade said she could get it before breakfast started; officially.

The palace’s practice grounds were empty. It was an odd site for Sakura. Whether she passed by purposefully or happened to spot the fields out a window, there was always excitement to be found. The silence and lack of activity felt wrong.

Luckily for her, Tsunade was quick to correct that.

Her new sensei pulled back the green haori she was wearing, revealing a weapons pouch on her right hip. A pouch identical to the one Sakura wore.

Her hands flew to her side but her pouch wasn’t there. “When did you . . . how did . . . what are you going to do with my weapons?” There were a few questions she wanted to ask, but she settled for finding out just what Tsunade intended to do with the pilfered weapons.

“You already know that being able to evade attacks is the most important skill for a medic-nin. An Iryō-nin that can’t dodge is dead. And a dead Iryō-nin isn’t doing their job. So, were going to see how well you can evade a kunai.”

Tsunade was flipping said knife in her hand. Spinning it rapidly in the air and catching it without looking. Sweat beaded on Sakura’s forehead. She was joking, right? She wasn’t going to throw live kunai at a first year gennin?

Chouji had told her she was suicidal to ask for extra training from Tsunade, whom just about every in the palace was afraid of. She was starting to agree with him.

Sakura squeaked when Tsunade suddenly launched the kunai at her, aiming no doubt for her large forehead. She was infinitely glad none of the guys were there to witness that.

For a second, she stood there cross-eyed, and then she threw herself unceremoniously on the ground to avoid getting killed. She didn’t have time to react when a second one followed, thudding in the dirt dangerously close to her knee.

The rest of the young girl’s morning was spent dodging kunai to the best of her lacking capabilities. When she had cried out the first time she wasn’t quick enough and the blade sliced her upper arm, Tsunade had told her not to worry, assuring that she would heal any injuries she garnered before sending her off to class.

The sinister smile that accompanied the words did nothing to reassure her.

Small nicks and cuts became common when Tsunade progressed to shuriken, which were lighter and could be thrown much quicker and with much better accuracy. She just about kissed the ground when the older woman called an end to their game and wasted no time retrieving her bag and hightailing it back to the safety of her room.

Tenten was waiting for her. As soon as Sakura crossed the threshold the weapons guru had repossessed the weapons pouch, firmly stating that she would give them a quick sharpening while Sakura changed out of her dirt covered outfit. A clean set was laid out on her bed in anticipation.

“How do you do it?”

Brown eyes glanced up from their work. They seemed so alive whenever she held a weapon. “Do what, my lord?”

“This,” she said pointedly, waving a hand around to gesture at the immaculate room. “How do you do so many things in one day?”

“You do the same, my lord.”

“Satoshi.” Tenten blinked. “Call me Satoshi.” She nodded in agreement.

“Satoshi, then. You attend classes all day. You wake early to train and practice late into the night.”

“But you’re always the one that gets me moving in the morning and the one to call it quits. You clean up after me all the time. You always seem to know what I need before I do.” Sakura pressed.

The other girl shrugged. “It only seems miraculous because you’re only in this room at the start and end of your day. I have the time while you’re in classes to do my servantly duties. My father used to say that so long as you took the time to forge a blade right once, you would never have to repair it. The philosophy applies well here. I get it done right the first time and use the rest to help you.”

Tenten’s voice had grown softer as she talked about her father. Sakura wished there was something she could say, but she didn’t have the greatest track record in that department. Her father wished she was crippled and she always got the feeling, on the rare occasions he had called her into her office, that Lord Haruno hated her, blaming his female child for the death of his wife.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Tenten said, pointing a kunai at her. “No pity looks. I love my father. I miss him. I don’t need you to feel sorry for me. I have the opportunity of a lifetime here.”

Sakura blinked. “You do?”

“Yes,” she affirmed. “One of the best blacksmiths in the kingdom is down in town named Iō. I sneak down there whenever I can to talk.”

“I’m glad your dream’s not been put on hold.”

Tenten shook her head. “It’s quite the opposite. One of the reasons I wanted to be a blacksmith was to show that women can be just as good as men. But, just by being here helping your, I’m helping me. Because you’re going to become the best damn gennin to ever pass through this Institute. You’ll show them all that kunoichi have what it takes.”

“Thank you, Tenten. For everything.” Sakura couldn’t believe how much faith the weapons mistress had in her. “I promise I’ll make your dream come true. It’ll be easy, right? So long as I have you to support me.”

Tenten smiled brightly. “Right.” She held out one fist. Sakura raised her own to bump it.

“Now, get moving. Or you’ll be late.”

Sakura yelped and ran to get changed, Tenten’s musical laughter ringing in her ears. She had never imagined, when she picked Tenten as the person to accompany her that she would find such a friend in her.

It made her feel giddy. Tenten was her first true friend. And Sakura was so relieved to have one person that wouldn’t hate her when all this was over. She had honestly worried that Tenten might hate her for bringing her to the palace where she couldn’t make any progress on her dream to build her own blacksmith.

The next eight years didn’t seem as daunting.

“Hey, Tenten,” she called on her way out.

“Yes, my lord?”

“Can you see if you can find any books to identify plants?”

“I’ll get them for you.”

Sakura grinned and ran to the mess hall. Her comrades thought Satoshi was unusually chipper and chatty, but they all attributed that to her success at getting the Legendary Tsunade as a mentor. For once, she was able to laugh and throw bread rolls about the table without feeling guilty about lying to them.  

 


	7. Chapter 7

As promised, Tenten had found a veritable gold mine of books she could use to identify and key out the thirty plants she had been tasked with identifying, and a dozen more that described how every plant that existed could be used in medicine. They were waiting on Sakura’s desk when she returned to her room after dinner to start on all of her homework.

Not only were the thick texts invaluable to her assignment, but Sakura found them fascinating. It was nothing short of amazing what these plants could do when ground up and made into a paste. Like the Horopito plant, or Red Leopard, which could be made into a bruise cream that cleared bruises up in two days.

Sakura found herself engrossed, reading until her eyes itched from staring at the tiny print. Viridian carefully scanned the pages that identified plants by their key characteristics, looking for those Tsunade had assigned her.

The young girl had taken the medic’s words to heart. She knew Tsunade hadn’t meant for her to put her extracurricular studies ahead of her normal ones, but Sakura could hear the desire in her voice for a competent student. A student that wanted to learn her trade.  So, while Tsunade had most likely meant for her to get it done during her free time, it simply wasn’t happening.

Free time was a misconception. A dream. It didn’t exist.

Sakura’s free time was filled with homework, the occasional detention because she was a bit of a smart mouth, extra training under Tenten’s magnificent tutelage, and now lessons in the medical field. She spent every waking hour and then some trying to better herself and pull up in the class rankings.

And if she wanted to do that, she would need the edge medical ninjutsu would give her. Which meant the red head needed to impress her newest mentor so that her lessons would quickly advance to learning jutsus. In order to reach that point, Sakura had to prove her dedication to the subject, so she would complete Tsunade’s assignments first.

Still, Sakura was relieved when she finished off the paragraph for Club Moss, also known as Wolf’s Claw, which was the spores she had originally unwrapped when first looking through the box, that were useful in improving memory and focus.

Mustering up her focus, the young girl pushed through her other assignments one by one. Once finished, she didn’t bother climbing into her bed. Instead she just laid her head down at the desk and was asleep instantly.

She regretted that choice in the morning, when she woke up with aching back and neck muscles and not feeling rested at all.

She yawned widely and blearily looked at the clock mounted on her wall, attempting to discern the time. It was difficult to do when Sakura saw three of each hand. When her vision didn’t clear she gave up. She felt confident that it was before three in the morning because Tenten was still curled in the cot provided for her and snoring lightly.

Crawling into bed was pointless, she would hardly have the time to fall asleep before she had to be up again, so Sakura peeled her arm from the book she had pillowed her head on, ran a bath because it was more quiet and she didn’t want to wake her friend, dressed, and neatly slid her assignments into her bag.

She was just debating if she would have time to find the kitchens and grab a bite to eat before running to Tsunade’s lesson when Tenten stirred in her bed sheets.

“Good morning, Tenten,” Sakura said cheerily. She still felt a tad exhausted from the lack of sleep the last two days, but Sakura was finding it hard not to be in happy spirits.

Almost a month and a half in and things were starting to look up. Her academic grades were as high as ever and slowly but surely she was improving in the physical side as well, thanks to the bun haired female. And now she would blow the examiners out of the water with Iryō Ninjutsu.

Plus, this weekend she had a promise from Naruto that he would help her train. The blond had promised to get her up to the level of the rest of the clan heirs.

So how could Sakura not be happy? Masquerading as her brother was the most insane and dangerous stunt she had ever pulled, but it was working.

Unlike Sakura, who had to drag herself out of bed some mornings, Tenten was immediately alert. “Good morning, Satoshi. I’ll be right back with breakfast and then we can use the extra time since you’re up early to practice your newest katas.”

Sakura blinked at the other girl’s frankness, suddenly wishing she had snuck out of her room before Tenten had woken.

When the brunette returned with a simple meal of porridge with raspberries, Sakura ate slowly to deter her, and when that didn’t work begged off just this once.  Tenten agreed to let her go and Sakura all but shunshinned to the medical wing despite not having learned the Body Flicker technique yet.

* * *

Sakura’s second day of Iryō-nin training was vastly different from the first.

Upon entering Tsunade’s office, the preteen had proudly presented her already finished assignment. The woman had taken in with an air of disbelief which quickly turned serious as she scanned the contents of the scroll that were a good three and a half feet in length.

Then she ordered Sakura to follow her and exited her office.

Sakura shadowed the world renowned medic-nin as she personally checked on the shinobi still laid up in beds from last week. With each patient Tsunade would describe the injury in detail and Sakura was expected to name as many plants as she could that would be used to heal such a wound.

She hesitantly explained her choices, but Tsunade never said if her selections were right or wrong. Just swept up to the next prone figure and had her do it again. Still, Sakura figured she was doing well because Tsunade was not one for incompetence. If she was wrong the woman would probably let her know immediately, like she had with that nurse when Sakura had received punishment duty a week ago.

Afterwards there was another round of evasion practice, which Sakura faired at as well as she had the previous day, and Tsunade sent her away at the end of the lesson with another box of thirty plants to identify.

Sakura assured herself, as she walked into her Warfare class, which about different battle tactics and when they were best used as well as a history of the wars the Elemental Nations had fought against the samurai, that she would not spend all her lessons with Tsunade researching plants and dodging kunai.

She dug through her bag when Iruka-sensei called for them to hand in their homework, only to turn up empty handed. Dismayed, Sakura realized she couldn’t even remember doing her Warfare assignment.

She wanted to bang her head against the desk for all the good it would do her. Not even one day into her new schedule before her insanely heavy workload got to her. Sakura had never not done an assignment. She couldn’t believe she had forgotten to do this one though, because she loved history.

Even worse was Iruka-sensei asking her if she was feeling alright and if she needed to visit the hospital wing. Sakura colored while he looked at her with concern, most likely taking in the purple shadows under her eyes and slightly yellow tint to her skin.

She knew she probably appeared drained and fatigued, but that was to be expected with how hard she was pushing herself. The girl in disguise only had to manage for a few more weeks. That was the point where Tenten estimated her katas and aim would be second nature and instead of spending two hours a day on them she’d suffice with just thirty minutes to keep the skills sharp.

Iruka-sensei was the nicest sensei they had. Everyone in her year agreed, aside from Fusoku and his group who thought him to be a joke. But that didn’t stop him from giving Sakura an hour’s worth of picking up stray kunai from the practice field after lunch.

Sakura understood that he couldn’t let her off for free, even though she thought her record should speak for itself and warrant one missed assignment.

She studiously ignored Naruto, who was shooting her concerned glances every time Iruka-sensei turned to write on the board. Hell, even Shikamaru, who usually couldn’t be bothered to be awake in this class, was studying her.

Sakura blocked them all out, concentrating solely on Iruka-sensei’s lecture, on how the Uchiha clan overpowered the Senju clan and established Konoha, which they graciously allowed the Senju to rule, and taking meticulous notes, as if by doing so she could prove that everything was normal.

It was a fascinating story. Having beaten the Senjus and established themselves above the clan of wood users, the Uchiha clan, led by Madara Uchiha, browbeat the other warring clans into submission. One by one, clan after clan fell to the Uchiha’s strength and joined his budding empire, settling across the lands that would become known as the Land of Fire.

Sakura knew that after the Uchiha clan had built their nation, several other clans had congregated to do the same. Sungakure. Iwagakure. Kumogakure. Kirigakure.

And as ninja were wont to do, fighting broke out between the nations and the world was ensconced in war once more. She didn’t know the specifics, but somehow Madara Uchiha had united all the nations under one banner, declaring them to be the Elemental Nations with himself as their king in the Chikara Palace and assigning one man from each land to be the Kage, responsible for managing one part of the nation for him.

Of course, once the ninja had stopped fighting amongst themselves, they fought earnestly against the samurai, whose lands border the Elemental Nations to the north. So it seemed that shinobi were always destined to be fighting.

Tensions were continuously high between the Elemental Nations and the Land of Iron, home of the samurai. Their military might was formidable.

However, the samurai weren’t the nation’s only enemy. There were several smaller countries that had cropped up after Madara had gathered the five greatest into one, like Kusagakure and Amegakure.

Sakura was forced out of her musings by the sound of the palace’s clock chiming the eleventh hour, loudly announcing that it was time for the gennin to move on to their next class. She tried to slip out behind Fusoku, who the rest of her friends hated as much as she did, only to have Sasuke block the doorway. She couldn’t demand that the young prince move or forcibly shove him out of the way, which gave Naruto the opportunity to latch a hand onto her arm and prevent her from escaping to the safety of Mizuki’s Shinobi Rules class. Sakura never imagined that she’d ever put the words Mizuki and safety in the same sentence.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Satoshi?” Naruto asked. “Iruka-sensei’s right. You look really pale. And it’s kinda hard to miss those ginormous bags under your eyes. I’ll tell Mizuki-teme that you went to the infirmary if you want.”

Angrily, Sakura brushed off the blond’s hand. She was perfectly fine. Just because she missed one assignment and it must have been because she was sick. The senseis never made a big fuss about it when other students forgot to complete one; just assigned detention or an hour of punishment labor and moved on.

Why did her mistake mean she was sick? It was nothing more than a mistake. So one homework assignment slipped her mind. It happened. The senseis set them a crazy amount anyway and it was unrealistic of them to expect the gennin to complete all of it every night.

Sakura took her set in Mizuki’s class with a huff, set on ignoring Naruto, Kiba, Shikamaru, and anyone else that was trying to insist she go up to the hospital wing. Thankfully lunch came after Shinobi Rules. Sakura practically inhaled hers before darting down to the practice fields.

She tuned out Gai-sensei as he went on about how youthful she was for fulfilling her detention so quickly. Taking the proffered wooden crate and set about picking up the scattered kunai. When it was full, she hefted it and carried it to the weapons storage shed, then returned to the field to repeat the process.

After the fourth time emptying the crate she caught the sounds of conversation and really loud laughter. Sakura poked her head outside the shed to spy a group of chuunin, which included Sasuke’s older brother amongst them, heading down the path that lead out of Chikara palace and into Baria-shi, the sprawling city that lay at the base of the palace that was famous for its marketplace.

Curious, Sakura watched them disappear, wondering why they were going down to the town on a Thursday. And without permission likely. While chuunin had more freedom, obligated only to follow the commands of their jounin master of four years, whilst they were in the palace they were supposed to obey the same rules they had since day one. That is to say, you were only allowed to visit the city when Master Kensouske said you could.

Sakura hadn’t given much thought to the older prince, who was her mentor. One the first day he had said in plain terms that his responsibility was to help the first year gennin with their academics, not be their personal trainers. She never once considered going to Itachi for help because he would only spurn her, seeing as she need help with the practical side of things.

There was no point in going to him when she what his answer was going to be.

Gai-sensei was waiting for her when she brought back yet another crate full of wildly thrown kunai to tell her the hour was nearly up and she’d best head up to the castle if she wanted to clean up before the afternoon lessons started.

Sakura declined, not seeing the point in going all the way back to her room to freshen up only to return to the grounds and get sweaty, dirty, bloody and beaten up. She regretted it immediately when the spandex wearing man started waxing poetic about her youth.

They were having actual spars that afternoon, not just mock ones to practice various strikes and blocks. The announcement had the large group of boys scanning the rest of the class, looking for the one person they wanted to beat.

Sakura tried to catch Naruto’s eye but he was already standing next to Gaara, who quite frankly intimidated her. It had something to do with the lack of eyebrows and how he seemed to hate everyone but Naruto. She turned to her second choice, Shikamaru, and found him partnered with Chouji.

Well, she supposed she deserved that for being so harsh to them that morning. They meant well and she acted like they had stolen her homework to get her into trouble.

Fusoku’s sneering face suddenly appeared before her, his nose so scrunched up he looked more like he smelled something awful than like he was looking at her condescendingly.

From the corner of her eye she caught the worried glance Naruto had shot at her, but Sakura wasn’t worried. Fusoku was all talk and hot hair. Naruto didn’t know how much extra practice she had done in the last four weeks. Hours of conditioning to adjust her stances and correct her weaknesses.

She was prepared for this. One benefit of her being a girl, and therefore smaller than all the boys was that she had the potential to be faster.  If Sakura went on the offensive first, she had a chance of beating the obnoxious bully.

Sakura faced the brown haired boy, folding her fingers into the Seal of Confrontation when it was their turn, which was made by position her right hand in the position for the ram seal. The Seal of Confrontation was the symbol of combat and a universal sign of engagement between shinobi because it was also the hand sign one made when concentrating chakra.

Her opponent mimicked her and the second he dropped his hand, fingers curling and looking to plant a fist in her gut, Sakura pivoted backward on her right foot, letting him stumble forward when he failed to hit her. She raised her elbow, her very bony elbow, and slammed it into Fusoku’s throat.

The boy dropped to all fours wheezing and gulping for air, hands flying up to massage his throat so that he could breathe properly.

Sakura followed up with a knee to the stomach once, twice, and Fusoku crumpled on his side, much like a paper bag did when it was trodden on.

The red head took a step back, looking towards Gai-sensei for a ruling. Her short spar had been met with absolute silence. The taijutsu master gave her two thumbs up, signifying that it was Sakura’s win, which had Naruto erupting into to cheers.

Sakura extending the two fingers she had used to form to Seal of Confrontation. Etiquette dictated that the two combatants lock their two fingers together to make the Seal of Reconciliation to acknowledge that the participants were still comrades. She didn’t care much for being comrades with a slime like Fusoku, who was forever taunting her about her chances of being cut, or even touching him for that matter, but she wasn’t going to upset Gai-sensei by being discourteous.

Fusoku on the other hand had no such reservations. He slapped her hand aside and spat in the dirt at her feet. “That was a dirty trick, Haruno. I’ll get you for it.”

Sakura stepped back to the enthusiastic congratulations of her friends as Gai-sensei scolded the civilian boy for his unsportsman-like behavior. Kiba pounded her on the back, nearly knocking her face first into the dirt and did his weird barking laugh.

“You can try,” she muttered just loud enough for the boy to hear, causing his face to purple with rage. Hopefully that little demonstration would keep Fusoku off her back for a bit.

Four hours later the second, and more crucial, half of the gennin’s daily training ended, and all the boys plus Sakura trooped inside to clean up for dinner.

Sakura didn’t quite understand why, when being a shinobi was such a physical career and one in which you lived or died by your ability to fight, they spent more time sitting in a classroom doing bookwork than training. For five hours, from seven in the morning until noon, they attended class. After an hour respite for lunch, they were down on the practice fields from one to five, and the hour before dinner was designated as a study hour to start on essays and the like. The two hours before lights out were theirs to do as they pleased, but all the gennins were still furiously trying to finish their workloads.

Naruto stepped into her path halfway across the field.

“I’m sorry.”

“That was so cool.”

The two had spoken at the same time.

“What did you say?”

Naruto was grinning foxily at her, the expression enhanced by the whisker marks on both cheeks. Sakura on the other hand, was looking at the blond’s feet, unwilling to meet his eyes when she had snapped at him for simply be concerned. It was uncharacteristic for her to forget to do an assignment, so it wasn’t unreasonable for her friends and even Iruka-sensei to be worried about her.

“I’m sorry, Naruto,” she repeated, finally lifting her eyes to his. “I didn’t mean to push you away like that. It’s just . . . everyone was insisting I had to be sick in order to make a mistake like the rest you guys. And I know I look like a mess right now—“ she continued before he could comment her appearance.

 “Satoshi, it’s fine. We understand. You’re allowed to crack every once and a while.” Naruto’s grin was impossibly wider. “You should do it more often because you were so cool just now. Fusoku never saw you coming. I didn’t know you were that good. I thought he was going to beat you black and blue and that it would be all my fault because I chose Gaara as my partner. And then you would hate me because it was my fault you landed in the medical wing. But you were just like pow! and Fusoku-teme was down for the count and you were just awesome.”

Sakura stared at the Hokage’s son, gaping slightly at how he managed to say all that without stopping to breathe even once.

“Forgive me?” He held up a fist between them.

Sakura didn’t hesitate. Her own fist came up to bump against him. “Only if you forgive me.”

“Done. Now let’s go eat before Chouji devours it all.”

Sakura smiled fondly at Naruto, who thought with his stomach as much as he did with his brain, as he dragged her inside in his rush to get to dinner sooner.


	8. Chapter 8

Even after another training exercise with Tsunade that morning, Sakura was energetic. It took everything she had to not bounce on her toes while she waited for Naruto and whoever he was bringing to help her.

The young girl had quickly learned not to expect anything from her latest sensei. The woman’s lesson’s plans changed daily, the only constant being evasion first thing. Otherwise, each day’s lesson was at her fancy. They often dealt with lots of bookwork and walking through patients in the hospital wing and letting Sakura attempt to diagnose them and then list how she would treat them.

However, Tsunade had decided to shake things up that morning.

She was still working on dodging, only today, instead of throwing just kunai or just shuriken, the medic had thrown both. Any progress she had made that week had been shot to hell. With just one kind of weapon, it was reasonably easy to predict its flight path, for it was distinctive for each one. Kunai favored straight lines and shuriken were easy to curve. She walked away at the end with as many scratches as she had on day one.

Apparently, Tsunade didn’t believe in taking breakings or wasting time, because she wanted to move onto the various medical techniques. The woman probably would have held her prisoner in the hospital wing all day if the gennin hadn’t begged off, claiming another appointment.

Although Sakura was ecstatic to finally reach the point where she could start learning about medical ninjutsu, because it meant she had impressed the medic with her knowledge so far and that Tsunade believed she was ready to move onto the healing part, (and it was all thanks to Tenten, who found more books than Sakura thought existed on illnesses and medical techniques. There was even an encyclopedia of ailments which she was attempting to memorize), she really wanted to improve her physical skills. It was important that she learned the basics now, before they started on the more advance techniques.

The bells rang out the eleventh hour and right on time Naruto arrived on the grassy practice courts with a taller companion in tow.

Naruto bounced ahead of the older boy, who could only be an Uchiha based on his appearance. The uchiwa symbol wasn’t necessary since all Uchiha had the same black hair and dark eyes. With a start, Sakura recognized this Uchiha as one of the boys she had witnessed leaving the Institute two days ago.

How had Naruto convinced a chuunin to help her with her abysmal foundations?

“Satoshi, this is teme’s cousin, Shisui.” Naruto introduced sunnily, reflexively ducking the now identified Shishui’s swipe to the head. “He’s insanely talented but without the stick up his ass like teme.”

Sakura had long since given up scolding Naruto for calling one of the kingdom’s princes a bastard (because Sasuke gave as good as he got), but she slapped him anyway. Then she turned her attention to Shisui, completely ignoring Naruto’s whining.

Seeing how Naruto interacted with Shisui made Sakura realize something, because it wasn’t just Shisui that the blond jokingly insulted. Naruto was like that with all the clan children. They all had really strong friendships already. Friendships that she missed out on because her father never let them leave the Haruno estate.

For a moment, she was overwhelmed by bitterness. It wasn’t fair that she and Satoshi had been denied this. But, Sakura realized that their ruse wouldn’t have worked any other way. If her brother had formed bonds with these boys previously, there was no way she would have gotten away with impersonating Satoshi.

“Thank you for agreeing to help me.”

“Think nothing of it, duckling,” Shisui said airily. “You’ll just owe me one in the future.”

Sakura fought back a grimace. She should have expected that. Shinobi didn’t do anything for free.

“Let’s start with a spar.” The chuunin curled his fingers back to his palms multiple times. “Come at me with everything you’ve got.”

She eyed him dubiously, uncertain how completely humiliating herself would help. Shisui repeated his hand motion. Sakura supposed her strategy against Fusoku would work here as well. Shisui was probably anticipating the worst, so she might get lucky enough to land a hit if she struck first.

Sakura darted forward, striking out with a fist to his abdomen, aiming for the solar plexus. Her limited medical knowledge was a boon here. The solar plexus was a network of nerves located behind the stomach, and if she hit it with enough force, not only would it be painful, but Shisui would have difficulty breathing because his diaphragm would spasm.

Shisui smoothly blocked it with his arm, easily diverting her attack to the side. Hastily, Sakura swept out with her leg, but he read her easily and jumped over it.

She pulled back for a second, unconsciously settling into the ready position. She lashed out again, growing frustrated as the Uchiha batted away her attempts like she were an annoying fly.

After five minutes he called for a stop, and by that she meant that he tapped her on three kill spots consecutively; the liver, a rib where he could have hit her lungs or heart, and the back of her neck. By this point Sakura was panting heavily and the back of her shirt was soaked with sweat and clinging to her uncomfortably.

“Well, that was boring.” Sakura flushed bright red, from both humiliation and anger. He knew she was bad, so what was he expecting?

Naruto clapped her on the back. “Don’t take his words to heart, Satoshi. Shisui likes to joke. Gets a kick out of annoying people.”

“True,” said man nodded. “What’s life without a little laughter? In truth, you weren’t bad, little duckling. Just predictable. A shinobi’s most important weapon is the element of surprise.”

Sakura’s frown smoothed out. That was understandable. One perfect hit was all that was needed, and if you got it first than you didn’t have to worry about beating the enemy.

“Now, come at me again.”

Taking Shisui’s criticism to heart, Sakura tried to be more unpredictable. It was hard, because she tried to fight at least three moves ahead. She would follow the vision she had of the fight in her head, abort a kick because it was the natural follow up, and Shisui would knock her on her ass because she was unbalanced.

“You’re thinking too much,” he said as he lifted her upright.

Determination pooled in her gut. Before she could think about the million reasons why it was a bad idea, Sakura made to drop her hand and pinched the skin between his thumb and forefinger. Shisui yelped. She knew from experience that it was painful. Then she twisted, planting the heel of her sandal in his abdomen, delighting that he dropped to his knees wheezing.

“Not bad, little duckling,” he congratulated while Naruto whooped in the background. “We’ll make a shinobi out of you yet.”

Sakura didn’t even feel the brief stab of annoyance she usually felt when someone used shinobi instead of ninja. It was irrational to be angry anytime one of her friends or senseis claimed she’d eventually get the hang of being a shinobi since they didn’t know she was female. Although that anger might be more attributed to the fact that by saying so they were admitting they thought her horrible currently.

But, coming from the carefree Shisui, the only Uchiha she met that liked to joke and wasn’t serious all the time, Sakura took it to be a compliment.

Shisui and Sakura sparred for another hour, with the older boy subtly adjusting her punches, kicks, and stances. With a jaunty wave, he told her to meet here again next week and that she had better surprise him.

The red head grinned at the challenge, eyes lighting up with excitement.

She would show him. Show Fusoku. Show all of them. She wasn’t going to be just another good shinobi. Sakura would be the best. That way, when she finally revealed her gender, they wouldn’t be able to ignore her achievement.

She’d surprise them all and prove that kunoichi were just as capable as shinobi.

And who better to help her than the one person who could have been a kunoichi.

Sakura booked it back to the infirmary, praying that Tsunade would train with her more today and not be grouchy and surly because she prioritized her taijutsu over her Iryō-nin training.

Unfortunately, it was not so. Tsunade opened the door to her office, having forgone the cups and drinking sake straight out of the bottle, and glared down at her new apprentice with beady eyes. “What are you doing back, brat?”

Sakura was surprised by the lack of slurring. She decided a little bit of name dropping wouldn’t hurt. “Shisui-san let me go, so I figured I’d come back and—“

“You figured you’d come back did you?” Tsunade sneered, and Sakura winced, realizing how bad that sounded.

“Well,” she started lamely, but the medic-nin didn’t let her go any further.

“I told you once not to treat this as an afterthought.”

“I’m not!” Sakura burst out. “I want to learn! I just had another engagement. I couldn’t very well cancel on Shisui-san.” Never mind that she hadn’t known precisely who it was she was meeting with today. “Besides, if I flunk out of the Institute because I can’t handle myself in a fight all of your teaching would be for nothing.”

“You’re right.” Sakura let out a sigh of relief. “I shouldn’t waste my time on an uncertainty. Come back next year. If you last that long.”

No! That wasn’t what she had meant. Sakura put her foot in between the door and the frame so Tsunade couldn’t close it.

“Please,” the nine year old girl begged, taking advantage of her youthful looks to hit Tsunade with her most devastating look. It was an old trick she had mastered on the household servants. Sakura would tilt her head ever so slightly so that the light made her eyes shine and open them as wide as she could. Unleashing it on an unsuspecting person always dazed them. “Please don’t stop teaching me. I want to learn.”

The blonde woman blinked. “Right,” she said brusquely, and Sakura immediately turned off her look. “Well, come on. I don’t have all day.”

“Wait, Tsunade-sensei.” The woman arched an eyebrow at her impudence. Sakura only hoped she wasn’t pushing her limits. “I want to learn your strength.”

Tsunade snorted. “Not a chance.” She opened her mouth to complain how that wasn’t fair. “Ask me again when you master chakra control.”

Sakura subsided, mollified that it was only a ‘you can’t learn right now’ no and not an ‘I’m never going to teach you this’ no.

They hadn’t worked much with chakra yet. They had done the leaf exercise of course, but the three main jutsus gennin were taught, the Henge, Substitution Jutsu, and the Clone Jutsu, didn’t require a lot of chakra, and therefore control wasn’t necessary. They weren’t even scheduled to start those three jutsus until after the mid-year exam.

Following Tsunade as the older woman strode out into the main room of the infirmary; Sakura couldn’t help but wonder if she was insane. Reading ahead and performing the three staple jutsu of every ninja during her exam probably would have been enough to ensure she made it to the second half of the year.

As it was, she wouldn’t give up Iryō-nin training. She hadn’t lied when she said she wanted to learn this. It had started out as a necessity, learning something unusual so that Sakura wouldn’t be cut come December.  Even with less than a week of unconventional training under her belt, she found herself fascinated by every new fact she learned. The books Tenten brought her were being devoured.

So, while Sakura recognized that she hadn’t started learning for the right reasons (and that Tsunade would probably smack her around if she ever realized there was ulterior motives to apprenticing to the famous medic), there was no reason she couldn’t continue learning because she wanted to.

“By the way,” Tsunade shot over her shoulder without turning to look at her, “you’ll be spending tomorrow afternoon cleaning bedpans.”

Sakura groaned at the loss of the only true free time gennin were given; they had no lessons whatsoever on Sundays. But she didn’t argue. She knew the blonde was vicious when in a temper, and Sakura saw no need to invite that fury down upon herself.

“Yes, Tsunade-sensei.”


	9. Chapter 9

The rest of October flew by in a blur training, bruises, punishments, and homework. Before Sakura knew it, it was the first weekend of November and Master Kensouske had deigned the gennin well behaved enough to earn a trip to the city. Like the rest of her year group, Sakura was excited for the rare day off. She tucked her money pouch into her weapons pouch.

The pinkette had three months’ worth of allowance that she had saved for this moment. She owed Naruto a really good Christmas present for convincing Shisui Uchiha to train her.

Sakura had had another two sessions with the older boy, both of which went similarly to the first. Shisui had wanted her to surprise him, so she tried to take a leaf out of Naruto’s book. The blond wasn’t anything if not unpredictable and stubborn.

However, she didn’t have his stamina, so exhausted herself well before the training session was up. Shisui had frowned at her and then set her to running laps around the field until he called for her to stop.

“Unfortunately for you, duckling, I know Naruto’s style like I know the back of my hand.” Sakura had blushed as bright as her dyed hair.

With both Shisui’s and Tenten’s help, her taijutsu had improved, securing her a rank in the top twenty for the physical portion. That, combined with her high placement in academics, always one of the top three alongside Sasuke and Shikamaru (although the placement of first, second, and third was always changing between them), provided a lot of comfort for the nine year old girl. Come time for the mid-year evaluations, Sakura was confident in her chances of making it through to the second half of the year.

As it was, she expected to pull up another few spots in the overall ranking, which she was currently fourteenth, without the bonus points she would receive for displaying her Iryō-nin skills. Not that she was going to give up her medic-nin training. It was the one part of the Shinobi Institute that Sakura was actually enjoying thus far. Her academic classes came too easy, and the lack of a challenge made them a chore, and the first half of the year for the rest of her classes only covered the basics, which were repetitive and redundant.

That was another item she had to pick up today. It had been over three months since she had first colored her hair, and Sakura was due a touch up else the pink would start showing through. The first year gennin had all split up and gone their separate ways the second they reached the city’s main street, so Sakura wouldn’t have to field any questions about why she was buying hair dye.

Sakura grabbed the dye first, as it was vital to her disguise, ignoring the inquisitive looks the stall vendor gave her. Then she methodically went through the list Tsunade had sent with her. The famous medic had seen no point in sending one of her nurses to stock the infirmary when her apprentice was already going to the city.

The list was mostly comprised of herbs; Sakura recognized many of them as fever reducers or blood thickeners, and more bandages. Acquiring the necessary supplies was easy enough. All she had to do was mention she was shopping on Tsunade’s behalf and the various shop owners ceased haggling and practically threw the plants at her.

She stepped back out onto the bustling main street, pleased to have finished Tsunade’s shopping so quickly, when she spotted Itachi. It was the first time Sakura had laid eyes on the heir to the kingdom since the day she arrived in the Chikara Palace. He was in the company of the other chuunin that had agreed to mentor the first year gennins. Sasori and Deidara, she recalled their names.

Curiosity got the better of her and she followed after her elusive mentor.

Or tried to. Not even three streets and Sakura lost sight of the three chuunin. She heaved a sigh, not actually disappointed. It wasn’t as if she expected to be able to trail them to wherever they were heading. All three of the older boys were in their third year as chuunin. If they couldn’t shake a tail at three quarters way through their training, well, they probably wouldn’t have gotten that far and wouldn’t deserve to earn a hitai-ate.

A pair of hands grabbed her, one arm across her shoulders that steered her into an alley, and the second hand settled over her mouth.

“Stalking is illegal, you know. Especially when the subject is our beloved prince,” a familiar voice said in her ear.

“Shisui-san!” she exclaimed one he had withdrawn his hand. Shisui had tried to get her to call him without the honorific, but Sakura wasn’t going to do that. The last thing she needed was extra punishment because Ebisu-sensei or Iruka-sensei caught her calling him by name. She didn’t care how relaxed he was compared to his cousins and the rest of his clan.

 “And for the record, duckling,” his dark eyes twinkled with mirth, “in the future you should flare your chakra if someone grabs you.”

What the hell was he thinking? Sakura knew he liked to joke and getting a rise out of people, but there was nothing funny about this. Shisui had practically scared her half to death. She had thought she was going to be stabbed and left in an alley to die.

She tried to convey her annoyance through a glower, but given that Shisui’s bottom lip was caught between his teeth to stifle his laughter, her face probably looked more like a scrunched up rabbit face than an angry one. That’s how her brother always described it as when she used it on him.

“Alright, I apologize, Satoshi-kun. I’ll just keep it to practice, how’s that sound?”

She borrowed Shikamaru’s most repeated phrase. “Troublesome.”

“Here, let me help you with that.” Shisui knelt down to gather up the results of her shopping, which were strewn about, having been thrown when he unceremoniously startled her. “Red hair color, eh?” he questioned lightly, and Sakura felt sweat beading on the back of her neck.

“Want to tell me the story behind this?” the brunet wiggled the box. “If you don’t, I’ll assume it’s something embarrassing.”

More like illegal. Sakura felt frantic. She needed an excuse that didn’t sound like an excuse. “It’s for me!” she blurted, to which Shisui arched a thin eyebrow. The rosette swallowed, titling her head down, lowering her eyelids a little bit, and will herself to blush, giving off the appearance that she was embarrassed. “My hair is actually pink and I didn’t want the other boys to make fun of me for having pink hair, so I colored it red.”

It was partially true. She did dye her hair red to mask her normal pink locks, just not for the reason she gave to Shisui.

The Uchiha blinked, clearly startled, not having expected that answer. Then his expression turned thoughtful. “I think pink hair would look good on you,” he announced. “It suits your face better. Your eyes are too bright for a red head.”

Sakura made sure not to look at her mentor weirdly. Was he some kind of stylist guru now? Although, she supposed ninja did have to know what facial features looked natural for infiltration missions. That didn’t mean she didn’t think he was weird though.

Shisui was the most personable Uchiha the girl had met. Sasuke, who was just a year older than her, was stiff and withdrawn from the rest of the gennin. Except for Naruto, who the younger prince fought with all the time. Sasuke was polite, barely, and wasn’t interested in making friends. His elder brother on the other hand, was courteous and approachable, but Sakura found him intimidating. She had seen Itachi spar Deidara once and he was lethal. He took his duties seriously, and it made the lines on his face more pronounced.

Their cousin was the complete opposite. Naruto’s personality in an Uchiha is how she would describe it. Shisui was gay and lively and outgoing. He was also more relaxed and carefree, not hesitating to show his emotions or speak in a manner other than monotone.

“Thanks, I think.” Sakura didn’t think there was any other response she could give in this situation.

“No need to hide yourself, Satoshi,” he said seriously. But there was. Sakura had a forehead protector to earn. It was the only way she could protect her brother, as she was too involved to back out now. The minute she suggested that she go in Satoshi’s place she had determined the direction her life would take for the next eight years. “You’ll make the strongest bonds here at the Institute. You can trust anyone one of your classmates to have your back. They’re not going to care if you have pink hair.”

“Fusoku would,” she pointed out, just to be contrary.

Shisui waved her comment away. “The opinions of an arrogant civilian don’t matter. Just beat the crap out of him if he gives you any trouble.”

“We’re not supposed to fight outside of lessons,” frowned Sakura.

“Gennins are always getting into fights with each other. Just don’t tell Master Kensouske you participated in a fist fight. The traditional excuse is to claim you injured yourself training.”

The chuunin grasped her elbow and steered her out of the alley and back onto the main market street. “I think it only right that I accompany you the rest of the day so as to protect you from the rabble that would stick a kunai between your ribs.”

Sakura shivered at his cheerful delivery as he continued. “It would be a disgrace on my part as your senpai if I let harm befall you.”

The young girl sighed, but didn’t resist. Mournfully, she couldn’t help but wonder why all of her friends and senseis were pushy, eccentric people. Shisui, Naruto, Tsunade, and even Tenten. Was nobody she knew sane?

The answer to that, as she would discover, was no. Sanity had no place in her profession. Shinobi were assassins; contract killers plain and simple. The red life blood of humans sank deep into their skin. Every person dealt with the guilt of taking another’s life differently, though they usually took the form of a couple unique personality quirks and harmless habits.

Shisui led her to an inn of all places, named the Dancing Hawk. If Sakura had felt uncomfortable approaching the building, it was nothing compared to how she felt once inside. The inn was crowded with patrons, all of adult age.

The taller teen pushed his way through, dragging an unwilling Sakura behind. He stopped at the bar, where she was shocked to see three faces she recognized. Sasori no Akasuna, Deidara of Iwagakure, and Itachi Uchiha.

Her first coherent thought was that Shisui was going to rat her out and inform the crown prince that she had tried to follow him. Sakura didn’t know what the punishment was for that, but she was sure it was horrible. Then she noticed that all three of them, and several other men seated at the bar, were wearing a red cloud patterned black cloak. She estimated them to be older than twenty, at least.

Uneasy, Sakura shifted so that she stood half hidden behind Shisui as the older boy apologized for being late.

“Who’s the fucking midget? Are we letting little fucking brats in now?”

The speaker was a man with slicked back silver hair and eyes that were the most mesmerizing shade of purple Sakura had seen. Her gaze drifted down, spotted his bare chest, because he wore his cloak open with no shirt, and shot straight back to his face. She fought down a blush as he sneered at her.

“Calm, Hidan,” a second male spoke. He, too, had distinctive hair; an orange that Naruto would be jealous of. “I’m sure Shisui has a good reason for the boy’s presence.”

“The boy is right here and can speak for himself. And the name is _Satoshi_ ,” she stressed, not at all pleased with the condescending way both men had addressed her.

There was absolute silence. Sakura caught Shisui shooting her a look that said don’t be an idiot, and she found herself wondering just where he had brought her and what she was getting into. Maybe it would have been better to not speak and let them ignore her.

Then the newly identified Hidan was laughing, pounding his fist on the wooden counter. “The boy has fucking balls.”

Sakura ignored Hidan, largely in part because the yet unnamed man was eyeing her with an appraising stare that sent chills down her spine. Apparently, she passed muster, because his personality did a complete flip and he flashed her a grin that stretched from ear to ear.

“I’m Yahiko and these,” he gestured to the other cloaked males by rolling his hand around on his wrist, “are my Akatsuki.”

The man to his right, with hair a deep red color, rolled his eyes. Sakura couldn’t help but wonder if this was some kind of Doujutsu gang. Both Shisui and Itachi had the Sharingan, curtesy of being Uchihas, the red head’s eyes were clearly indicative of a doujutsu as well, although she had no idea which one he possessed, and Hidan’s purple eyes were distinctive and unique enough that he might also have a doujutsu.

“Not your anything,” he muttered.

“I like you, kid,” said Yahiko. Sakura simply nodded, not certain how to respond to the man. “You’re welcome here anytime, and if you ever need help, just drop by. Me and Nagato are almost always here,” Yahiko indicated that the red head was Nagato with his thumb. “There’s always one Akatsuki to be found here.”

Her mouth felt dry. A man who spent all his time sitting at the bar of an inn drinking was giving her free reign to visit? Did Yahiko own the Dancing Hawk? What in the Sage’s name had Shisui unwittingly dragged her into?

* * *

“What was that about?” she hissed when the pair stepped out of the Dancing Hawk and into the haven that was a public street.

The brunet exhaled, aggrieved. “Look, it’s complicated. I shouldn’t have brought you along. Akatsuki sees themselves as peacekeepers, but they’ll use any methods necessary. Their word is good, but I’d be careful what you ask of them. And I’d only do it as a last resort, duckling. I can guarantee if you approach Yahiko you’ll be forced to join up.”

Sakura was contemplative the walk back to the palace. Those Akatsuki sounded like bad news, and she promised herself that she was going to stay far away from them, even if she was dying to know why Itachi was counted amongst their numbers.

She had enough trouble on her plate as it was without looking for more.


	10. Chapter 10

Sakura had told herself numerous times that it was not her place to get involved. It was in her best interests to stay away from the group calling themselves Akatsuki and their no doubt not legal business. She didn’t need anyone to say that outright. Every one of them gave off the aura of don’t mess with me. She had her own problems to deal with; hiding her gender during the growth phase and school work and training, and it wouldn’t help her in any way to paint a target on her back because she couldn’t keep her head down.

Yet here she stood, not even two days later.

The pinkette cursed her curiosity, but she couldn’t stand not knowing or situations with no solutions. That was how Sakura found herself hovering outside Itachi Uchiha’s room.

The prince was her mentor, she reasoned. Or supposed to be, anyway. She had hardly seen him since the first day on which he introduced himself, gave her the grand tour, and laid down the rules and his expectations, which amounted to _you are a shinobi now and responsible for your own training. I will not coddle you through this process._

But Itachi had said she could come to him with question, and Sakura only had about a million that she was burning to ask.

Like what was the Akatsuki, for starters? And why were Shisui and Itachi a part of it? Did she have to worry about disappearing mysteriously the next time she foot in Chikara proper?

She clenched her fist to mask how it shook. Her mental encouragement to not be afraid fell flat. She pounded twice on the door in quick succession; hand shooting down to her side like the door had burned her afterwards. There was a moment of stillness, and the low murmurs on the other side quieted.

Suddenly unsure, Sakura debated running. He would never know she had stopped by. She could hear Satoshi, the calmer of the two Haruno siblings, asking her if this was worth it. She was starting to think it was a bad idea, for it wasn’t the decision her brother would have made, but the door opened, light spilling out into the corridor, and it was too late to turn back.

“Do you require assistance with your assignments, Satoshi-kun?”

Sakura blinked at the familiarity with which he addressed her. She accepted it from Shisui, having learnt that the chuunin was very personable and outgoing and physical with his friends, but had expected Itachi, being the prince and heir, to be formal. It was—odd, to hear her given name tacked on to Itachi’s reserved and stiff style of speech.

Itachi was the picture of geniality. His head was tilted ever so slightly to the left as he gazed down at her, curse her nine year old body for being so short, conveying that she had his attention for the time being  with a polite, curving smile.

It should have been inviting, but Sakura had to restrain the urge to shudder. There was something decidedly fake about how the teen presented himself. His expressions lacked the emotions that went with them. Underneath, there was a distinct air of danger, which only came out in the silky tone he used.

Now that she had seen the two Uchihas at the Dancing Hawk, she had an explanation for some of the oddities she had witnessed, like Shisui’s willingness to train her on Naruto’s word. Like her, Itachi and Shisui were presenting a mask to the world, behaving in a manner that one expected and letting those around them draw their incorrect conclusions.

Sakura was quickly coming to realize that people only looked for duplicity when they were expecting it. She had gotten away with her charade thus fa because no one expected a female to impersonate a male because she wanted to attend the Shinobi Institute. Therefore, they weren’t scrutinizing her every move looking for signs that she wasn’t who she claimed to be because they had no reason to believe otherwise.

Similarly, no one would believe the crown prince to be involved with Akatsuki, whatever the group was, because everyone viewed him as the perfect heir.

And ultimately, that was what drove Sakura to pay her mentor a visit.

She knew, whatever it was that Itachi was involved in, it was serious, because that was the only reason she would risk breaking her character. And that was the one question she wanted answered above all others; why did Itachi believe in them?

“Am I allowed to ask for help on extracurricular assignments?”

Itachi’s eyes widened minutely. She wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t already been looking at them for a sign of recognition.

The gennin had carefully worded her question so that he would know she was referring to her meeting the Akatsuki. It was mostly precautionary. No doubt, lauded as the genius he was, Itachi knew upon seeing her outside his door what she wanted to discuss. But this way, Sakura had given him the chance to turn her away, which she would accept he if he chose to do so, while simultaneously informing him that she wouldn’t betray his secret.

“Normally, I wouldn’t allow it. Any additional assignments you procure are your responsibility,” he answered smoothly, and Sakura tucked that knowledge away for future reference. Unless she also got involved with the Akatsuki, she would probably never approach the older boy again. “But it must be particularly difficult, Satoshi-kun, for you to finally bring your academic work to my attention.”

Sakura thought she heard a hint of pride in his voice, but convinced herself she must have imagined it. After all, he had no reason to be proud of her.

Itachi stepped aside, allowing her admittance to his rooms. He shut the door and gracefully reclaimed his seat at his writing desk, a beautiful pine piece, motioning to Shisui who was sprawled on his bedcovers.

“You are already acquainted with my cousin.” Said teen chirped a gleeful greeting but didn’t move.

Sakura was unsurprised by the other teen’s presence. Aside from her training sessions on Saturday mornings, she never saw one of them without the other. They were attached at the hip, much like Naruto and Sasuke, although the younger two were a mix of best friends and eternal rivals. Itachi and Shisui’s relationship was different—closer, despite the age difference. It was easy to see that they trusted the other implicitly.

Sakura took the opportunity to examine Itachi’s room. Spartan was the first word that came to mind. The furniture consisted of a bed, the desk the teen currently sat at, a modest wardrobe, a single shelf, and a kotatsu, all of the same pine as his desk. It lacked personal items, but she supposed it didn’t make sense to move his belongs from his childhood quarters to one that was temporary. What little he did have was immaculate and tidy.

A person’s room could say a lot, as it was a place where one could be himself. Sakura’s room at home would be considered clean, but not on the same scale as her mentor’s, where every item had its place. Itachi held himself to high standards, and she already knew him to not accept anything less than the best. Sasuke complained more than once, when the first year gennin started meeting as one large group to tackle their assignments, that his older brother wouldn’t hesitate to criticize when there was room for improvement.

“I trust that you will exhibit caution in regards to the weekend’s activity.”

Shisui sat at attention suddenly, dark Uchiha eyes flashing. “Oi, duckling! Didn’t I tell you to stay out of Akatsuki’s business?”

“No,” she returned sharply, hiding her amusement at his stunned look. “You warned me there would be not walking away if I took Yahiko-san up on his offer.”

* * *

Itachi shot his cousin a curious look. The pinkette imagined he, much like she had since that day, was wondering why Shisui would bother to bring her in the first place, knowing Sakura would have little option but to become minimally involved, if he was going to warn her to keep her distance.

Shisui pinked lightly, not quite believing that a ten year old boy had called him out. “That’ll teach me to be more careful with what I say. But I thought the message was pretty clear. This isn’t something you want to involve yourself with, Satoshi.”

“Why not? You said the Akatsuki’s goal was peace.”

At that, Itachi cocked a single eyebrow. He was content to watch Shisui continue to put his foot in his mouth. It allowed him to observe the younger male.

Physically, the boy wasn’t much. His eyes, bright green, stood out the most. Itachi had already known, before his cousin had mentioned it, that the boy’s red hair wasn’t natural. It was a good job, but he was familiar with dyes, as they were a safer method of concealment than genjutsu since illusions could be sensed and dispelled.

Itachi had found himself intrigued by Satoshi, who he knew not to be a boy at all. Enough so, to not report the girl. He wondered how long her masquerade would go unnoticed, and thought the instructors of the Shinobi Institute deserved the heart attack that would come when the truth was revealed for allowing their skills to wither to the point an untrained girl could dupe them.

There were subtle differences in facial structure between females and males. But those slight differences were what ninja were trained to notice.

In Satoshi’s case, the differences could be attributed to young age. But her face was entirely too effeminate to be accounted for as a boy who was still yet growing. At first glance, her face was softer and rounder, particularly the jaw. The bridge of her nose was more slender and not was wide at the base. Her mouth was closer to her nose than a male’s would be. With time, her lips would be fuller, a surefire indication of her true gender. Her eyes, also, were larger and opened wider. Lastly, her eyebrows were thin and curved slightly, whereas his were thicker and straight and set closer to the eye.

Altogether, it signaled that Satoshi was actually a female. And knowing the laws, as much as the prince thought them unfair, Itachi was interested in learning her reasons for why. Why pretend to be a boy for eight years? Why had she chosen to attend the Shinobi Institute when the punishment would be death? There was no way she was foolish enough to imagine that her secret would not be discovered.

“Each one of them is hardcore I-eat-little-kids-like-you-for-breakfast ninja without any loyalties!” Shisui said in effort to dissuade the red head’s questions.

“Shisui.”

Said boy blinked, taking in Satoshi’s slowly paling face, and realized he had said too much.

“If they have no loyalties,” the girl began, voice inconceivably soft, “then why do you support them?”

Shisui made to answer, most likely a denial or protest so he could guide the conversation in another direction, but Satoshi wasn’t to be distracted.

“You’re involved. Deeply. You haven’t left or turned them in to the authorities. You haven’t abandoned them because you believe in their cause, their purpose, and you want to see it realized.”

His cousin stared at her, jaw hanging open, unable to respond, to refute the girl’s powerful words, which had hit the nail on the head. He and Shisui both approved of the Akatsuki’s dream, even if the elder boy was sometimes unsettled by their methods. Itachi didn’t agree with them always, but he understood the necessity.

“You are remarkably wise for one so young, Satoshi,” the prince commented. The girl ducked her head in response, blush spreading rapidly across her face.

“Akatsuki desires peace,” Itachi explained simply.

“Do we not have that already?” she whispered.

Not wanting to expose her to the ugly truth, Itachi answered, “Peace does not last forever.”

Satoshi was pensive as she reflected on his words. He thought in unfortunate, that the young girl’s vision of the world would now warp. It wouldn’t be long before she was seeing enemies where there were none.

“I think that’s all you need to know at this point.” Itachi didn’t miss how her eyes narrowed and knew that, for better or for worse, the girl had chosen to support Yahiko’s dream of world peace.

* * *

Sakura walked away at the end of it all content. The answers she received had been unexpected, and frankly made her a little anxious. If Akatsuki wanted peace that meant something serious was brewing, more so than the skirmishes the Elemental Nations had with the samurai.

But they hadn’t brushed her off, telling her she was too young and that it would be better if she forgot she had ever visited the Dancing Hawk and met the Akatsuki. They were letting her choose for herself.

Sakura already knew her decision. She had made it before she had made up her mind to confront Itachi. Next chance she got, she was going to drop by on her own free will, thank Yahiko-san for his offer, telling him that she’d ask for help if she needed it, and see what the rest of the Akatsuki had to say about their organization.

And if she liked what she heard she wouldn’t hesitate to sign up.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I beg you all to forgive me for not writing for more than a year. My family is still trying to reorganize our world after my dad's accident. I've also moved cross country for 3 months while I complete an internship, and it is unbelievably hard to find temporary housing in the current market. This chapter took such a long time to write because, let's be honest, I wasn't writing. I was trying to make an outline for this story, only to find out I write really detailed outlines and was essentially writing the chapter anyway. So while I'm kinda frustrated with my inability to create a general outline, I had enough to give you guys a chapter, which you definitely deserve. This one is for all of you who bothered to open the link when you realized the last time it was updated was 19 months ago.

Sakura did not frown, as she pressed an herbal remedy for the sniffles into Izuno’s hand. At least she thought it was Izuno, but it was a hard thing. Kotetsu and Izuno were always together, and everyone referred to them like their name was one, _IzunoandKotetsu._ So she couldn’t say for certain that Izuno was the name of the man standing before her. He at least had the excuse of guarding the gate into and out of the palace leading towards the city. But dozens of men had risked Tsunade’s wrath, which was rather spectacular, to get quick healings for their colds.

The chilly, biting air was now a permanent fixture. The snow arrived four days ago in a particularly nasty snowstorm. It was early in the season, as it was only mid-November, but that was no reason for shinobi of all ranks to lose their collective sense. The young girl mused that, as residents of Chikara Palace and shinobi, they ought to have more resistance to inclement weather. Not to say they can’t dislike it. Sakura would hate to live in Amegakure, where the rainfall never ceased. But she couldn’t help but feel it was slightly demoralizing to witness scores of battle tested chuunin and jounin looking for instant gratification for their red and runny noses.

At first, Sakura had been fascinated by the mountains of white, fluffy flakes. The Land of Fire had been aptly named for its blistering summer heats. But even the winter months were warm, temperatures never dipping low enough for snowfall.

Clearly, a foot and a half of snow was nothing outside the norm at the Institute. Neither, apparently, was training in it.

Biting back a sigh as the doors admitted another full grown man who ought to have the sense to utilize the perfectly serviceable indoor training rooms, Sakura fetched a bottle of medicine, a small stack of hankies, and draped a towel over her arm. She gave the first two items to the man, who was sporting a look of mild bemusement in his visible eye, and ushered him out the door with instructions to mix a pinch with water until it had a paste-like consistency and rub it over his sinuses twice a day and to come back if he experienced any unusual side effects.

Stepping atop the towel, Sakura quickly mopped up the worst of the water. She tossed soggy cloth atop an ever growing pile of wet towels that she had yet to run to laundry. Just another item on her list of things to do.

As the end of the first semester, and consequently winter break, drew closer, Sakura found herself with increasingly more things to do. Her workload from her instructors, which previously consisted of three hours hunched over desks digging through various texts, grew to need close to five hours on a typical day.

Tsunade was no different. Now that Sakura had a decent foundation of the various uses of plant and animal parts, the legendary healer had tasked her with ingredient preparation. So the pinkette would spend her down time in the hospital wing’s storage room, dicing, chopping, slicing, grinding, crushing, juicing, shredding, and basically breaking down ingredients into usable components. It was a tedious task, made all the more so by how cautious Sakura had to be to ensure the quality of the ingredient was no ruined.

The one bright side that she saw was the blonde woman pushing back their start time from four in the morning to five. Sakura wondered if the early morning meeting was some kind of test, one that she had passed by determinedly showing up at four in the morning for a month straight, or if Tsunade had finally realized she wouldn’t be deterred from training as a medical ninja and decided to get a little more shut eye. Though it was more likely she was nursing a hangover with how often Sakura heard the older woman mutter that she needed a drink.

Tsunade had also elected to change up her schedule. Her physical performance had improved leaps and bounds. Thanks to hours of evasion training and her smaller stature, Sakura was lasting longer in spars, simply by virtue of being hard to grab hold of. In the interest of keeping things interesting, or so she claimed, Tsunade no longer set aside a block of time in which she attempted to hit the ninja in training with artillery. Instead she’d surprise Sakura when the young girl was otherwise occupied. The first time the healer had done so when Sakura was with a patient she had panicked. Caught off guard, she hadn’t made any move to dodge the projectile. But instinct kicked in and the nine year old avoided the kunai, and thankfully so did the ninja on the cot, who plucked it out of the air and deftly slid it into his weapon’s pouch.

Sakura had turned to face her master, confused and anxious as to why Tsunade was now throwing kunai within her domain, only for that confusion to turn to anger when she spotted the disappointed gleam in the older woman’s eyes.

“What was that for?”

“You tell me,” Tsunade said bluntly, crossing her arms beneath her ample chest.

Sakura tried to come up with an explanation for the out of character attack. This was not the first time the healer had launched a surprised attack. In as much as she could, she was always expectant, not knowing when Tsunade would decide to test her avoidance skills. But she had never before done so when Sakura was involved with a patient.

“You don’t want my reflexes to slow down?” she answered, unsurely. Certainly, Gai-sensei was always proclaiming that they must never let their bodies get out of shape and continuously reminding them to practice their katas outside of class. Sakura thought only Sasuke and Neji heeded that advice.

“Don’t be thick, boy,” was Tsunade’s sharp retort. “If that was the goal you’d still be doing fifteen minutes of dodging before you stepped foot in here.”

The pinkette resisted the urge to bit the inside of her lip. She could her the echo of Ebisu-sensei’s voice about all the impolite ways the action could be misconstrued. Her train of thought was interrupted by the sound of breaking glass.

“Sorry about that,” the shinobi drawled.

Irritated though she was, for Sakura had all but forgotten about the man still waiting for examination, she knelt and picked up the shards of his cup, while waving of his apology. “No problem, shinobi-san. It happens all the time. You’d be surprise how many forget the glass is there.” Personally, Sakura thought shinobi intentionally broke the water cup as an excuse to make her clean it up, because it meant they wouldn’t have an inexperienced medic-nin working on them. It was impossible for them not to be aware of the glass’s placement.

Sakura froze again, this time in realization. “Oh. Situational awareness.” She looked over her shoulder at the older woman, who arched an eyebrow as if to say ‘keep going.’

She finished her task of cleaning up the broken glass slowly, giving her time to gather her thoughts. “In a combat situation, how well and where I can dodge would depend on the environment. Like just now. I have limited space in which to move.” Sakura indicated to the empty cot to her left. There was enough space between two beds for two people to stand shoulder to shoulder. While she had stepped to her left to avoid Tsunade’s kunai, it was only a single step. When fighting an enemy, that one step probably wouldn’t have been enough to avoid the first attack, never mind a follow up. “Also, I couldn’t move backwards.” This time she waved her hand at the shinobi.

“All good points, Satoshi, but you’re missing the lesson to be learned still.”

“You won’t always be able to dodge, kid.” The man’s tone was decidedly somber.

Sakura thought she understood. “On an escort mission, right? The client has to be protected.” His lips twisted dourly as he agree with her. He didn’t speak after that, and Tsunade seemed satisfied that her message had hit home, but she couldn’t help but feel as if the two adults had been imagining a different scenario. Tsunade’s eyes had glazed over, and she had only snapped back to the present when the bell for breakfast rang.

Since that day, the blonde had stepped up her training considerably. Sakura sluggishly hefted the basket of towels, made heavy from all the water they absorbed. She briefly considered asking Tsunade for a break, just a couple of days, so she could regain her energy. For the last month and a half Sakura had been working more than any child her age should, and Tsunade’s giving her back an hour actually didn’t give her more time to sleep, for it had gone to completing her increasing number of written assignments. However, Sakura feared if she suggested taking some time off, Tsunade would forbid her from coming back, like she had tried to when she had first skived off a lesson to train with Shisui.

‘Two more weeks,’ was becoming her mantra. Knowing that she only had fourteen days until the mid-year exams, after which she would either have a month off the institute to return home or would be sent home permanently, allowed her to get up each morning and face her hectic schedule.

“You’ve grown complacent.”

Sakura jumped when a fish slapped wetly on the table next to her elbow. She tore her gaze from it, turning revulsed eyes on her mentor. “I—what?”

“You’ve lost that sickening bounce in your step. Clearly I’m not pushing you hard enough.”

The green eyed girl braced herself against the table’s edge, fighting off the blackness that threatened to overwhelm her. Had Tsunade’s old age finally caught up with her? Was delusion setting in? How could the woman possibly think that Sakura needed more things to do, especially this close the mid-year cuts?

“Revive it.”

Delusional woman say what? “You mean—“

“You’ve read about the mystical palm technique. Use it to revive this fish. You’ve got a month.”

“But-“ Sakura stammered, “I don’t know how. I mean, I’ve read about what it can do, but nothing I read mentioned what hand seals are used.”

Tsunade laid down a rather large scroll. “Everything you need to know about this technique is in here. So quit wasting time and get started.”

“Yes, sensei!” Sakura saluted cheekily, prompting an eye roll from the other woman. She hurriedly unfurled the scroll, no longer dismayed at the idea of putting one more thing on her plate. This jutsu was what she hoped to learn when she first approached the cantankerous healer for extra tutelage. Displaying aptitude of such a complex jutsu would assuredly secure her position as one of the gennin to move on to the second half of the year. The mystical palm technique required more than pumping someone full of specially molded chakra. It was vital to match the amount of chakra used to the severity of the injury. This jutsu was a medic-nin’s bread and butter, invaluable for its ability to diagnose and heal all but the most serious of injuries.

She was thrilled that Tsunade thought her ready to learn this jutsu. Contrary to the way she had presented the challenge to Sakura, the healer would not have done so if she believed her incapable of learning it.

She would show Tsunade. Show all of them. Fusoku and all those who constantly bullied her, telling her she didn’t have what it takes to become a shinobi. Sakura would prove herself beyond a shadow of a doubt by being the first to learn a justu.

It wasn’t until later, as she happily filled Tenten in, that Sakura realized the importance of the time limit Tsunade had imposed. She had been given a month to learn the mystical palm technique, even though her mid-year exams were in two weeks. Tsunade had faith that she would still be here come December.

 


	12. Author's Note

Obviously this is not a chapter.

I have a roommate who was having computer issues. I lent her my flash drive, where I saved all my unfinished story chapters, plot bunnies, research, everything on. I was thinking, since I’ve seen author’s notes all the time who have lost all their work and had to start over. I thought, by saving it on a flash drive, that that would never happen to me. I literally only saved word documents and pictures. But then I lend my roommate my flash drive and the stupid bitch of a tech she called to helps formats my flash drive, despite being told not to because a warning message said I’d lose all my files. And then I spent four hours trying to contact anybody in Microsoft with brains, only to be told they don’t have the technical skills required to recover my files and that and I quote “to be honest, once you have formatted your files on your flash drive there is no way to recover it manually.”

News flash assholes, I didn’t. One of your agents screwed up and you’re not doing a damn thing to fix it.

So despite my best efforts to never be in this situation, I find myself here none the less, having to rebrainstorm, replot, and basically rewrite 11 currently in progress stories and one that I had start and wasn’t ready to post yet.

This is really frustrating, because I honestly just found the time and motivation to sit down and write again after everything that happened with my dad, and now I have to start over.

So, if you don’t hear from me for a while, it’s because I have to start from scratch. Because I can’t afford to pay Best Buy $250 to ship my flash drive out for recovery for several weeks with no guarantee that they can recover my files.

I feel horrible. I had a good cry fest over it. But my hands are tied. I found a local computer repair store will to give it a try for $100, which is better but still pretty steep at the moment. And honestly, if it came down to that, I’d rather start over again and not spend so much money.

I just . . . bear with me please. If any of you write or know someone that does, tell them to back up their files. This is the most soul crushing feeling.

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own either the Alanna the Lioness quartet or the Naruto universe


End file.
